


Agreements

by Lady_Ravenfeather



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abandonment, Blood and Violence, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Dubious Consent, Emotional Distancing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Characters, Ostracism, Out of Character, Slow Burn, do not copy to another site, emancipation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:47:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23500324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Ravenfeather/pseuds/Lady_Ravenfeather
Summary: Harry’s vision swam, the world seemed to fade into monochromatic snippets played in slow motion before his eyes. With dislocated jaw he could only whimper weakly after each punch, feeling his mind slowly slip into the void.Where was his magic when he needed it?Where were his friends?Where was Dumbledore and the Order...?‘Somebody, save me... Anyone. Help.’
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Revelations and Painful Events

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone,  
> I sat for hours wondering what to tell you before you start reading this piece and came up blank. So, I guess I will settle for few warnings. Like English is not my primary language and this work wasn't looked over any beta. Any mistakes are my own and I apologize for each and every one of them.  
> Or that the tags and description will change and progress just as the story would unfold. Also, I chose not to define any pairings for now but this will be mainly M/M slash with mentions of other relationships. So, if you don't like it don't read. It is that simple.  
> I still don't know how this story will end and I don't know how many chapters this will take, a lot, and I can't promise you regular updates... But please, enjoy and leave a comment :)  
> Yours,  
> Lady Ravenfeather

_**I stand here again, forsaken in a place  
That feels like I can never win  
I'm reaching for a saving grace  
I can't even trust no one**_

_**1)** _

Harry did this again. Lost control of his magic. Let it slip, just a little, but let it nonetheless. In front of his uncle. Even if only a little. Even if only to save the teacup from shattering on the kitchen floor. Only because Harry flinched, startled by Vernon’s sudden appearance in the room.

It was Saturday and Harry’s aunt and cousin left to do some shopping. He didn’t even make it a week into summer holidays.

“No, no! Please stop! Stop!” His own voice sounded strange in his ears. Shrill and scared. Weak.

Fists like hammers pounded into his body. Skin meeting with skin with an odd, wet clasps that would be nauseating if they didn’t hurt him so much.

“Not so brave now, huh?” Another punch fell on his ribs and he felt something crack. Light flickered before Harry’s eyes. “Not without that useless godfather of yours. Not without that wand of yours.”

Harry coughed trying to clear his mouth from blood flowing there from his broken nose. He whimpered in pain.

“Please, stop... I won’t do it again... I will control it better... Just stop. Please...” Harry wheezed, praying for some relief.

“You’re right, you freak.” The fat monster of an uncle spat in his face. “You won’t do this anymore because you won’t go back to this school again.” He chortled like a maniac. “In fact, you won’t go anywhere...” Vernon hissed viciously and Harry felt something heavy press on his thigh. He screamed. The pressure intensified. Blood roared in his ears muting his uncle’s malicious snicker. Then he heard the sickening sound of bone breaking. His screams subsided to strangled sobs.

Next heavy punch landed on his jaw, with enough force to dislocate it, and his head rebounded hard on the tiled floor. Harry yelped in pain.

“Stop whining, you freak-boy.”

Harry’s vision swam, the world seemed to fade into monochromatic snippets played in slow motion before his eyes. With dislocated jaw he could only whimper weakly after each punch, feeling his mind slowly slip into the void.

Where was his magic when he needed it?

Where were his friends?

Where was Dumbledore and the Order...?

_‘Somebody, save me... Anyone. Help.’_

He gasped softly feeling cold spread over his body. He was so tired...

“Step. Away. From Mr. Potter.” Harry barely heard low, angry growl, just a whisper above the ringing in his ears. It was familiar but he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. He just wanted to sleep. He wanted the pain to end.

He barely noticed his whale uncle spin around, probably to face the owner of the voice. “Who are you? What are you doing in my house?! Get out!!” Vernon shouted.

“Step. Away. Now.” The fury in intruder’s voice could melt a steel beam. “Step away or they will never be able to find all of your pieces.” Vernon jumped away startled by the threat and backed off to a corner. Shadow fell over Harry. He struggled to see the face of his rescuer. Tall figure, clad in dark robes, loomed over him keeping a wand pointed at his uncle. Harry's breath was coming out in shallow painful puffs and his eyelids felt heavy.

_‘So tired...’_

Cold fingers brushed his wrist soothingly and Harry sighed when his eyes finally closed and darkness wrapped him in its arms.

Harry woke with a gasp. He felt as if he was being squeezed and stretched simultaneously, pain trashing around in his bones and muscles. Wherever he was, the surface he was lying on was soft and warm. It was so unlike his bed at Privet Drive where the mattress was hard and bumpy and the blankets thin. His eyes fluttered open with a soft groan. He moved his eyes to look around but everything was blurry without his glasses and covered in long shadows from the faint light that flickered on the other side of the dark room, probably in the hearth.

Harry stirred in bed, confused where he was and what happened to cause everything ache. “What...? Where...?” He rasped and saw a blurry movement at his side.

“You are safe. How do you feel?” Quiet baritone, familiar in timbre, sounded in the room. His rescuer came to him in revelation. He suddenly remembered Uncle Vernon looming over him, beating him with those ham-like fists, all the pain, all the blood... Harry squinted to make out the features of the man beside him but his bad eyesight and deep shadows ensconcing the man’s face made that impossible. He was disappointed even if he couldn’t figure out why it was so important to know who saved him. He was saved, and he felt safe, that should be good enough. For now. Now, the thick white fog of pain that clouded his mind and made everything fuzzy seemed more alarming.

“Hurts...” Harry whined and promptly heard glass bottles clinking on the side of the bed.

“Here. Drink this.” The stranger cradled Harry’s head in his hand and lift it putting a vial to his lips. Cool liquid slowly dribbled into his mouth allowing him to swallow slowly. Harry was half surprised to notice that potion tasted like pomegranates with a little hint of peppermint. He instantly felt drowsy.

“Tasty...” Harry murmured feeling the pain ebb away and his body sunk deeper in the pillows.

“Thank you. Now sleep. You will feel a lot better when you wake up next time.” Stranger reassured him and Harry hummed lazily in agreement, not resisting the pull of sleep. His last thought before Morpheus snatched him into his dreamland was that the stranger’s voice was oddly soft.

_**But everything inside you knows** _   
_**There's more than what you've heard** _   
_**So much more than empty conversations** _   
_**Filled with empty words** _

_**2)** _

Harry slowly resurfaced feeling the warm sun on his face and was surprisingly well rested. No pain, no aches. He stirred slightly when he heard his name spoken in hushed tones somewhere nearby. Not knowing where he was and who saved him, he stilled and relaxed, feigning sleep.

“... you can’t be serious. He almost died.” Harry heard someone hiss in an angry seething voice. Dark and barbed cut straight to the deepest parts of the conscience and Harry shivered. It wasn’t unpleasant. “If I hadn’t intervened, he would have bled to death.” 

“He would have been fine. His magic is strong. It would have protected him.” _‘Headmaster...?’_ Harry listened intently, regretting he couldn’t see their expressions. 

“No, it wouldn’t. Potter’s magic core was depleted, almost empty.” 

“Severus...” _‘Snape!?’_ Harry flinched. 

“No, Albus. You made your choices and it almost cost this boy his life. There is a lot I can do, but watching idly as his relatives torture him to death isn't one of those things.” 

“You've done enough damage, Severus, by your interference. Now it's up to me to fix this. Please leave.” There was a warning in Dumbledore's voice. Low and dangerous, promising painful punishment for disobedience. Even when he faced Voldemort couple weeks ago, Harry never heard him speak in that tone. 

“He will wake up in a couple of hours. Have a pleasant summer, Headmaster.” Snape scoffed and his shoes scraped on the floorboards. Words were devoid of emotion, but Harry knew that the more silent and calmer Snape was, the more deadly and furious he got. Harry learnt to be scared of silence Snape was wielding like a weapon. 

Fast steps echoed in the distance and for a moment there was silence. Harry thought that Headmaster left after Snape, but he didn’t move or open his eyes. He tried to process the information that it was Snape who saved him. And now apparently was defending him from Headmaster. Why? Snape hated him. Why suddenly he sounded so... protective? 

“...Is Harry still asleep?” Another whisper echoed on startling Harry. He recognized Mrs Weasley, but she sounded weird. Devoid of all warmth, clinical and business like. 

“Yes. Do you have everything you need to leave before he wakes? Shouldn’t take long now.”

“Yes. I’ve got Ron’s and Ginny’s things. They are already at the Burrow. He won’t even know we were here.” Mrs Weasley answered and Harry stirred uncomfortably, not understanding the tone of that conversation. “Here are the doses he will need after he wakes up. He got without them too long for me to feel comfortable.”

“It was only two days, Molly.”

“From what Hermione told me it could have been longer, Albus. She said that he rarely ate or drank after the Ministry. Then he lost a lot of blood... He might be missing a few doses. And just a thought that he is out there, even secluded with those Muggles, but out of control...” Her voice broke with anger and fear.

“Oh, Molly. I will administer him a double dose when he wakes up if this makes you so worried.” Headmaster reassured her.

Harry stiffened under the covers, thought about Headmaster feeding him some unknown potions froze the blood in his veins. _‘What the hell is going on?’_

“Thank you, Albus. I am scared. He is so out of control. Hard to shape as it is. Without those potions...”

“Take a break, Molly. I will send him to you only for the last week of summer and take care of everything. I heard that your youngest son started to date Miss Granger, they should use this time to really get to know each other, without keeping an eye on Harry.”

“Oh, Albus.” Mrs Weasley almost sounded like she was holding back sobs. “Kids would appreciate some free time and some peace. It would be a shame if this couldn’t flourish because of Harry pulling them into danger again. He almost got them killed more than a few times over past years... What if that happens one day?”

“You and the kids are doing such a great job with him, Molly. He trusts you, dates young Ginevra and his hatred for Voldemort will push him to do what is right. He is almost where we need him. But still some compulsions counteract with one another. We knew this would happen. It was unavoidable. We would have to work harder to steer him. Especially young Ronald and Miss Granger. They can influence him the most.”

The more Harry heard the more dread he felt. What all this meant?

“I know, Albus. I am always afraid that he will get them killed one day... He doesn’t even care about his own life. He had to provoke that Muggle really badly for him to react that way. And I don’t know what he did to Severus. I know he swore to protect the boy, but that man fussed all over him for the past two days.”

“Severus overreacted.” Headmaster seemed irritated for the first time during this conversation and that terrified Harry to his core. “I will speak with him later. He shouldn’t have taken Harry from the Dursley’s.”

“Not to mention nurse him like that... Are we sure he gave Harry all the right potions? That he didn’t tamper with ours in any way?” She asked pointedly. “Lately, he had some reservations about them.”

“I checked Harry few hours ago, Molly. He is fine.”

“Good. That's good...” Mrs Weasley sounded distracted.

“I have this under control, Molly.” Headmaster spoke calmly. “Now, please, go. It's time for you to get back to the Burrow and talk to your children about what has happened and how the plans for this summer changed.”

Harry heard long deep breath the woman on the other side of the door took. “Of course. Goodbye, Albus.”

“Goodbye, Molly.”

Harry heard the floorboards creak and their steps fade somewhere inside the house they’ve put him in. He slowly opened his eyes and squinted trying to make out his surroundings. He saw the outline of the nightstand next to him, filled with potions and bandages. He noticed his glasses were lying next to them and he reached for them immediately. Harry put them on his nose and pulled himself up on the pillows. He recognized the room as the one he was sleeping in last summer at Grimmauld Place. At least it wasn’t the Dursley’s.

He leaned on the headboard and tried to process what he just heard. It didn’t make any sense. Were they just pretending all those years? Feeding him potions? Shaping him? Into what? What Dumbledore meant that he was ‘almost there’...?

The more he pondered about what he overheard the more he couldn’t understand this. If all they said was true, then that meant they were just pretending. Pretending to accept him, to treat him as a part of the family. and their act was perfect, flawless. Their worry, their concern, warmth they showed him. All his adventures with Ron and Hermione. All the time they spent together and it was all an act? Just so they could keep their eye on him? To influence him?

He couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t true. It was a set up. A ruse. Somebody was playing a joke on him. Right? It has to be. Harry drew a sharp breath remembering what Mrs Weasley said. That Snape was here. The man hated Harry, he easily could have charm him or something... But then the remembered the dark shadow of a silhouette and voice dripping with barely withheld fury. Snape certainly didn’t have to save him, nurse him to health and apparently disobey the Headmaster along the way. All the others listened to Dumbledore. Obeyed his every order. Just like last summer, when they didn’t tell him anything about the Order while he was suffering at Privet Drive, starving, being attacked by dementors, almost expelled. And Dumbledore never told him anything, only left hints and tips...

“Oh gods... Like in my first year.” Harry groaned softly. He once suspected that Headmaster somehow led him to the Mirror of Erised. Not to mention that the trials in that corridor were nowhere hard or strong enough to keep the Stone safe if three first years could walk through it... Just this niggling feeling deep inside that something was off and it suddenly disappeared. It sounded so absurd that he never bothered to pursue it. Was this caused by one of their potions as well?

Harry started to wonder about all the times he was in danger. His second year, Headmaster never did anything about the Slytherin’s monster, never tried, only stated sadly that they would have to close the school. He knew how much Hogwarts meant to Harry. He was there when the Chamber was opened the first time by Riddle. He knew the signs. He knew who died then and that her ghost was still there. All he had to do was ask.

“Oh gods...” He whispered feeling despair fill his chest and tears pinprick under his eyelids threatening to get out. His life was a lie. First, his Uncle and Aunt lied about his parents, about who he was. Then, when he finally thought he found a place where he belongs, it turned out to be one fat lie too. How long was this going on? Were Ron and Hermione on this from the start? Weasleys were there with him from those first minutes on King’s Cross. But was Ron on it then or joined them later? Was Hermione? Was everything they said to him engineered by Headmaster? He imagined all the little lies they told him over the years, all the withheld truths. Everything to push him where they wanted. It was worse than straightforward betrayal. It felt so much more devastating. Harry suppressed a sob. It hurt. Much more than the open hatred his relatives showed him, more than Snape’s aversion and other teachers' indifference. He loved his friends, he loved Weasleys.

And it all turned out to be a sham.

Harry took off his glasses and hid his face in the pillows quietly crying himself back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Falling Apart – Papa Roach  
> 2) On Fire – Switchfoot


	2. Expels and Invites

**_ All they wanted was violence   
To plant their seeds and divide us   
If they want the worst that's inside us   
We'll bring on the violence   
The violence _ **

_**1)** _

“Harry... Harry, wake up.” Gentle voice and a hand shaking lightly his arm woke him, pulling him from dreams filled with smoke and mirrors, contorted reflections whispering lies to him and hiding in the shadows. Those nightly visions gave him the chills. 

Harry raised his head from the pillows only to see the Headmaster looking at him smiling and the afternoon light weakly shining through the dirty window. He quickly righted himself in the bed and leaned on the headboard. 

“Headmaster.” Harry said forcing neutrality in his voice, even if everything he wanted to do was to rip this man to shreds with his bare hands. 

“How do you feel, Harry?” Dumbledore asked his eyes searching Harry’s but he carefully avoided them. He was almost certain that Dumbledore was a skilled Legilimens, like Snape. 

“Confused. How did I get here?” 

_'If he can pretend, so can I.’_ Harry thought bitterly. 

“Professor Snape brought you here after the accident you suffered at your relatives house.” Dumbledore leaned back in the garish purple chair standing beside Harry’s bed looking a little disappointed. He fished small vial out of his robes and handed it to Harry. “Here, drink this. It should clear you mind a little.” 

Harry hummed frowning and looking at the vial in his hand. It was filled with pale blue potion, slightly opalescent in the weak evening light. He felt compelled to drink it’s content but he threw that off with a little shake of his head. “What was he doing there?” 

“He never explained this to me, Harry. But he had no right to take you from your relatives.” Dumbledore told him and Harry could hear a faint waver in Headmaster’s voice. He was uncertain and careful. Harry almost felt that Headmaster eyes were drilling holes in his face. 

“He saved my life.” Harry said quietly, still not looking at the Headmaster. 

“You fell down the stairs, Harry. It looked bad, but you would be fine. Few days of rest and you would be as good as new.” Dumbledore said with determination and something else in his voice that left a ringing sensation in Harry’s ears. He felt a slight pressure on his mind. 

Harry snorted and shook his head again. The ice-like rage settled down in his stomach. 

“I didn’t fall, Headmaster.” Harry was surprised that his voice sounded strong and didn’t falter. That it was calm, deadly calm. “My uncle had almost beaten me to death. If it wasn’t for Professor Snape, I would be dead.” 

With a corner of his eye Harry saw Dumbledore watching him carefully and the pressure on his mind increased. “I’ve spoken with your uncle, Harry. He said you fell during your chores. He promised to watch you more carefully and he will welcome you in his house tomorrow morning.” 

“You’re kidding, right? I will never go back there.” Harry stated, his anger quickly smothering his incredulity. He didn’t shout, he didn’t even rise his voice. The words fell flatly from his mouth, almost neutral in the afternoon's shadows. 

“Harry, you have to. There lays a great task ahead of you. You are too precious and we cannot lose you. I need you to be safe with your family. Behind the blood wards.” Headmaster argued. “I know that you are afraid and uncertain, my boy. But I also know that despite it all that you are very brave young man. You need to be brave just a little longer. I need you to go back to your aunt and uncle.” Old Headmaster’s voice was melodic, almost hypnotising, but Harry dug his nails into his palms to distract himself from the urge to listen. To _obey._

"No.” Harry grounded out, clenching his jaw. “Now, please leave.” 

“Harry...” Dumbledore tried, but something in Harry snapped. His anger was no longer cold. It was scorching, threatening to burn through Harry as if he was a dried leaf. It was hotter than Fiendfyre. 

“I said NO.” Snarl that escaped his throat didn’t resemble his usual voice. It was closer to an animal. “Get. Out.” Harry vaguely felt walls shake and ripples that had gone through the floors. “And take the Order with you.” 

“Calm yourself, Harry.” 

“GET. OUT.” Harry demanded, heat exploded in his palm and in his chest. The house shook violently. 

“Harry...” Dumbledore stood up drawing his wand. 

“GET OUT!! YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE ANYMORE!! GET OUT!! NOW!!” Harry screamed and it seemed to come from the house itself, from the walls and corners. And then the house collapsed on itself and twisted, enveloping the Headmaster in its walls and then rippled carrying the old wizard out of the room before he could even react and cast any spell. 

Harry scrambled out of the bed, still high on his anger, and followed the ripples which seemed to avoid him. He saw Dumbledore being pushed down the stairs and then thrown out of the front door. Then he noticed Remus, passing him on the stairs, being treated in the same way. Small pang of guilt and sadness struck Harry but he shook it off. Remus was probably on it too. As some say, guilty until proven otherwise. 

Various belongings followed two wizards and Harry watched as they flew out the windows. He leaned on the wall and slid down to the floor feeling exhausted when his anger left him. House convulsed few more times and then settled still, sealing itself shut. It all took less than a minute. 

“What just happened...?” Harry asked himself whispering in shock. “It that all of them...?” 

Loud bang to his left startled him and he sat on the floor. He saw Kreacher staring at him with wide eyes. 

“Kreacher...?” 

The old elf shook his wrinkled head. “The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black accepted you, Master Harry Potter, as its Heir.” And Harry watched wide-eyed as the old elf bowed before him deeply. 

“Okay, Kreacher...” Harry swallowed hard still in shock at how the house reacted to his anger. He never heard about something like this before. “You don’t have to bow to me.” 

Kreacher looked at him exasperated but Harry shut him up before he could protest. “I just want you to take care of yourself. You are not that young anymore, Kreacher.” 

Elf looked like a fish freshly out of the water, opening then closing his mouth a few times before he finally spoke. “Crazy Dobby was right, Master. You are the most extraordinary of wizards, Harry Potter.” 

Harry laugher weakly and waved his hand dismissively. Only then he noticed that his nails cut through the skin and his palms were caked in blood. Kreacher momentarily took Harry’s hands in his bony fingers. 

“Let me take care of it, Master.” The old elf said seriously without his usual insults and Harry Have let him tend to his wounds. “All there, Master.” Old elf looked proud of himself when the small cuts stitched seamlessly and blood was cleaned. “Professor Snape asked me to tell you that your trunk with all your belongings from your relatives is hidden in the wardrobe. Shrunken, keyed to your magical signature. And your wand is in the second drawer of the bedside cabinet, also keyed to your signature.” Harry watched in amazement the transformation Kreacher apparently had undergone in the last few minutes barely digesting any information elf showered him with. “Now, Master, would you like to drink some tea? Maybe some supper?” 

“Both sound great, Kreacher.” Harry said feeling his eyes water and his knees weak and wobbly but he got up and followed the grumpy elf to the kitchen.

**_ I'm stuck in a war _****__ **  
**_ I️ am broken and torn _****__**  
**_ Dividing my head and my heart _**

_**2)** _

Next two days Harry spent talking with the ancient elf and planning what to do next. Kreacher’s newfound respect for him was puzzling but he decided that it was nice to have someone to talk to, even if it was a neurotic old elf. Harry wondered when the Order members would try to siege the house and force him to follow their will... Or shower him in mail and howlers to gain his attention, spells hidden between pieces of parchment. But for now, the only mail Harry received was a worried note from Neville who was concerned by Harry’s lack of response in the past few days. He smiled sadly looking at the note still unsure if he could trust that the timid boy isn’t in the league with Dumbledore and the others. But decided to give him a chance and wrote back. Neville was thrilled to hear from him and they already made plans to meet in the Diagonal Alley to shop for school supplies. 

But that wasn’t until the last week of August. He had to find himself something to do. He already sorted through his trunk and things that Snape recovered for him. Snape saving him was unsettling enough, but him recovering Harry’s things from his relatives was on wholly another level. He knew that the man saved him at least once before, probably more than once over the years, but this time he didn’t seem to be angry at Harry, but for Harry. And that he took care of him after? Was he possessed or something? 

Putting aside the thoughts of Snape’s motivations and intentions, Harry listened to Kreacher’s lecture on how to manipulate the wards of the house and how the house itself can help him with taking care of it. Harry immediately thought about renovations he could do. But for most of the works would need of him to use his wand and he still had more than a year before the Trace would be off of him. And there was Voldemort on his back. And Dumbledore to deal with. And his... friends. 

Harry was overwhelmed. 

“How will I make this work, Kreacher?” He groaned putting his head with a light thud on the kitchen table. “I can’t be locked up here for a year. Everything here reminds me of Sirius’ death, of their betrayal... I...” Harry groaned again. 

“What do you want to do the most, Master?” Kreacher asked calmly putting tea mug beside Harry’s head. Harry stiffened surprised at the simple question old elf asked him. No one ever bothered to ask him that. Most of them just assumed what Harry may want or simply told him what they considered a good choice for him. Fully expecting him to listen. 

For a moment Harry relaxed basking in the warm feeling of someone caring about his wishes. Even if this was an old elf who was bound to care for him. At least, being bound to him by magic, he won’t betray him... 

“I think I want to train and learn magic. Like I did last year with the DA...” Harry murmured into the table. “But with the Trace still on I can’t practice any of that. I can’t use my magic until I get to school. If I do, the Ministry would know, they would force Dumbledore to show him the house and then break the wards...” 

“That is highly impossible, Master. Kreacher hears things and Headmaster wouldn’t risk exposing the house or Master being expelled. He would hide it.” Kreacher shook his head. “But I think we have a book just for you, Master.” And with that he popped out and into the kitchen in a flash and laid out big book bound in leather. Harry looked at the title. 

_“Wizarding Law for Young and Desperate.”_ He read aloud and chuckled. “Well, that certainly is me. Thank you, Kreacher.” And he dipped into the lecture instantly. 

Few pages into the book he realized that he would need help.

_**I'm past the breaking point, I set my soul on fire** _

**_3)_ **

For the millionth time Harry wondered why the hell he thought this was a good idea. And for the millionth and one he told himself that he really didn’t have any other option. Yes, the man was vile to him, berating at every turn, always criticizing. But maybe it wasn’t all just hatred he always perceived it to be. If he was to believe Mrs Weasley, the man _swore_ to protect him. There had to be more to the story that schoolyard rivalry between Snape and Marauders. He remembered faintly soft words and gentle care from a figure covered in shadows and, after what he overheard, it just made sense to him that Snape was nursing him back to health. Harry just couldn't figure out why. He could have left him to Madame Pomfrey, Mrs Weasley or even Dumbledore, but he didn’t. Harry wanted to know why. 

He sighed scrunching up his nose and looked at the parchment in front of him. 

_Dear Professor,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. You probably don’t want to read this. I have a request to ask of you. It is not easy writing to you. Our history makes things even harder. But I’ve found that I have no one else to turn to._

_I suppose other members told you about the events that took place at Headquarters last week. Their consequence left me stranded with almost everyone and forced me to seek unusual acquaintances. I know that my behaviour during last months is less than appalling and only confirm everything you ever thought about me, but I wish you could put that aside even for just a moment and listen to my request._

_Recent developments, especially the ones at the Ministry last month, opened my eyes at some truths and pushed me to ask for your help. I understand that you don't trust me, nor even like me, to be willing to grant my request but I need your help, Professor. I feel that only you can help me. Could you at least listen to what I have to say? My doors will be open for you, and only for you, this Friday, from 5 till 8 PM._

_Hope to see you here._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Harry Potter_

He scratched his head and sighed heavily. 

“I guess it won't go any better than that...” Harry murmured to himself and rolled up the parchment. Drawing fingers through his raven locks he looked at the room littered with crumbled pieces of parchment and more than a few broken quills. “God... I hope he won’t hex me on the spot.” Unamused chuckle escaped his lips as he walked over the rubbish and started to climb the stairs to the attic. He dreaded his Professor’s response but there was also a dash of hope. He saved him right? Maybe he will at least listen to him. 

Harry quickly opened the doors to the room Buckbeak just recently inhabited. Hippogriff happily moved back to the Forbidden Forrest few days ago and Harry turned his room into owlery when he asked Kreacher to buy him a second owl yesterday. Of course, Hedwig wasn't happy with him at all because of that, but Sirius was right – a snow owl is not a common sight, even in regions of Scotland. Also, everyone in the wizarding world knew Harry possessed one snow owl. 

That's why Harry asked for ordinary tawny owl for the letters that required a little more secrecy. 

“Hi Hedwig, Paimon.” Harry called approaching the birches. Paimon watched him silently, but Hedwig turned her head away. 

“Still mad at me, girl?” He asked the owl slightly amused. “OK, I think Pai here would be more than happy to fly to Neville...” Harry mused aloud shrugging his shoulders and turning to the other birch. Angry hoot stopped him and he saw Hedwig sticking out her leg so he could tie his letter. He chucked and pulled out the letter for Neville from his pocket and quickly tied it to her leg. She pecked his hand a little too hard, leaving a reddish mark, but not drawing any blood so he guessed they will be fine, eventually. Another hoot and she was gone. Flew out the window into late afternoon. 

“So easy, don't you think Pai?” Harry chucked after few moments of watching her pale shadow on the darkening sky. Smaller owl ruffled its feathers and hooted facilely. “I am glad you agree with me.” Harry sighed and turned to the other owl. “Are you up for a longer trip? I don’t know where he lives during summer... Hogwarts probably?” Paimon blinked and hooted reassuringly, so he started to tie the second letter to his leg. “OK, please be discreet. Catch him alone. You won’t be recognized like Hedwig would be but it wouldn't do anyone any good if someone started asking questions.” He scratched owl's head. “He isn't exactly the type to receive letters...” 

Pai looked at him sharply and flew out the window. Harry stood there for a few minutes watching as his shadow slowly melted with the dark sky. 

“Now, all I can do is wait and hope he comes...” It was Wednesday’s evening. At least he wouldn’t be waiting for long. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Demons and Angels - Lowborn  
> 2) The Violence - Asking Alexandria  
> 3) The Time Is Now - Atreyu


	3. First Agreement

**_ Yeah we're  gonna be legends _ **   
_** Gonna get their attention **__****_  
_** What we're doing here  ain't just scary **__****_   
_** It's about to be legendary **_

_** 1) ** _

Friday came and Harry couldn’t sit still. Five in the afternoon chimed suddenly and then the time almost froze. Oozed sluggishly around making him more anxious with every passing minute. What if Snape won’t show up? Harry paced the corridors and was constantly rearranging the furniture in the sitting room. Then decided to move to the kitchen two winged armchairs Kreacher renovated for him just this morning. He almost jumped out of his skin when, quarter to eight, he heard a hard, short knock on the front door and quickly skittered to open them. He took a moment to try and swallow the lump blocking his throat and opened the door revealing the dark man standing on the steps. 

“Professor, you came.” Harry said awkwardly and stared at the Potion Master. He looked surprisingly... regal in dark blue shirt and charcoal jeans. Harry was gaping and he knew it.

Suddenly, Snape was inside and Harry's jaw in tight grip. Vial appeared in his other hand and Snape put it to Harry’s lips forcing the contents into his mouth. Harry struggled, scared that he made a mistake, that this man was here to poison him. He tried to spit the potion out, tried to hit the man but Snape was like a brick wall, hard and unforgiving. He closed off Harry’s airway’s and he had no other option but to swallow the bitter liquid. Then he was dumped on the floor panting. 

“Will you let me in or you want to talk here?” Annoyed question sounding over his head surprised him. Harry parted his lips wanting to shower Snape with questions before he dies, but the dark man stepped over him and walked inside the house. _'Maybe it's not poison then...'_ he thought and scrambled off the floor as Snape disappeared inside the kitchen. Harry just sighed and followed his Professor. 

He was welcomed by the tea already brewing in the pot and biscuits laid out on table. Harry sat anxiously in one of the two armchairs he had put in here just minutes before feeling like a guest in his own house. 

“What was the potion for?” Harry asked quietly having realized that Snape must have had a reason to force it on him like that. 

“Precaution. It will leave memories of the next few hours scrambled in a way that anyne trying to view them wouldn't make anything out of them. Even you.” Harry looked at the man, his eyes wide. “I have an antidote. If this conversation satisfy me I will give it to you.” Snape watched Harry’s face intently, looking sinister. Harry felt even more nervous now. Now everything was in Snape’s hands, even Harry's memories. 

His eyes fell to his lap where he fiddled with his fingers trying to figure out what to say next. How to say it. 

“Erm...” He tried after a few minutes of strained silence, but Snape cut him off. 

“Can you tell me how did you do it?” He asked pouring tea into two cups. 

“What?” Harry blinked surprised. 

“The house, Potter. How did you manage to kick everyone out? And to keep them out. Even Dumbledore can’t get through. Impressive considering that he is the Keeper of the Secret of this house.” Snape asked almost conversationally blowing gently on his tea. Harry blinked a few more times. The man was still harsh and straight-forward but now he seemed almost civilized. If you looked past the sour and ironic smirk on the man's face. 

Harry wondered how much can he tell this man. About what he heard. Taking his chances, Harry started with the truth about the house. 

“Sirius left me the house in his Will.” He began. “At first, I had no intention in ever living here. Not after everything... So, at the end of the year, I’ve let the Order continue using this place as a Headquarters. But...” Harry's voice trembled slightly. “But then Dursleys received a note from Weasleys about Sirius dying and I’ve made a mistake letting my magic go and... You know how that ended, sir.” Harry paused awkwardly and Snape nodded darkly. 

He could still feel the kicks and the belt on his back... The blood filling his mouth, troubles he had with breathing... Harry took deep, shaky breath and continued. “If not for you I wouldn't be here. They wouldn’t have their precious Saviour at all...” Harry said sourly while twisting his fingers and watching Snape from under his fringe. Older man's face was dark and stern, but without his usual sneer. Harry took it as a good sign. 

“There was only Remus here, along with Dumbledore when he woke me up... Right before I kicked them out, Dumbledore came to talk to me.” Harry scoffed. “He said all those pretty things about how brave I was and about this great task that lays ahead of me...” Harry paused. 

“’I know Harry that you are afraid and uncertain. But I also know that despite it all that you are very brave young man.’” he mimicked the Headmaster “’You need to be brave just a little longer. I need you to go back to your aunt and uncle.’” 

“He didn't...” Snape said quietly, his eyes only a thin slits, full of anger. 

“Oh, he did. He said that they were notified about his disappointment and assured me they will never do it again...” Harry scoffed. “I was sitting there, still gathering myself from the _hospitality_ my uncle showed me and he asks, no, orders me to go back there? I just, just lost it. I told him to get out. He tried to calm me down... I started screaming, yelled that the Order was no longer welcomed here. Then I felt this heat in my chest and the house, it listened to me. The walls and floors curled, warped, catching Dumbledore and Remus, pushing them out of the front door and locking itself after them... Then it threw their shit out the window.” 

Harry watched the Potion Master from under his fringe, curious about his reaction. And stared in shock when Snape snorted and let out a dark chuckle. Severus Snape, his former tormentor, now his saviour, was pouring himself another cup of tea holding a little smile. Genuinely amused smile. He didn't know what to think about this side of Snape's personality he was seeing today so he said the first thing that came to his mind. 

“I know now that you are not as evil and bad as you appeared to be all those years but to actually see it...” 

“Don’t be mistaken, Mr Potter. I am still as bad and evil as I appear.” Snape put his cup on the table. “Of course, maybe less inhumane than you thought I am. Child abuse is something I will not tolerate. It is not important to me who is subjected to it.” 

Harry could only nod, scared that he would say something inane and make this man angry. 

“No need to be so frightened, Potter. I am willing to hear you out.” Snape gestured for him to speak. 

Curling both palms around his cup, Harry took a deep steadying breath and cut straight to the chase. 

“I want to ask you to train me. Legilimency, duelling, poisons, Dark Arts... Everything that will help me finish that son of...” He bit his tongue but Snape only smirked darkly. “Please, please teach me.” Harry stared at the Potion Master determined to beg, carefully eyeing his every move. 

“Every time I tried to teach you something, Potter, you showed absolute incapacity to absorb any knowledge.” Snape drawled. “Why this time would be different?” 

“Because everything changed...” Harry said quietly, stirring in his chair. “I was a moron. An utter moron. I never really paid attention whenever you tried to teach me anything. Whenever anyone tried, to be honest. That was incredibly stupid of me.” The words just poured out. “I apologize. For everything. For being disrespectful. For trying to undermine your position. Especially for invading your privacy...” Harry pushed further looking the sour man straight in the eyes. “I was, still am, everything you thought I was. An arrogant, self-absorbed, ignorant child. You were right to always knock me down. Even if I hated you for that and saw that as your way of tormenting me. I thought it was just because you hated my father but now, I don’t think that's all there was to it. You always pushed me. To be better, to try harder. And I want to be better. I want to try harder. I want to be the best. And for that I need to learn from the best.” Harry took deep shaking breath and didn’t turn away from the man in front of him, still looking him straight in the eyes. “You are the best I know. The only one I could trust.” 

Snape held his gaze for a moment then asked. “What makes you think that you can trust me?” 

“Probably it is another stupid thing I am doing...” Harry admitted smiling sadly. “But you never lied to me. Not about my father, not about Sirius, about anything really. My disbelief in your words never stopped you from telling me the truth. And you were right about me from the beginning. I was stupid for not listening.” Harry said simply shrugging. 

“Maybe not about everything concerning you...” Snape minutely relaxed in his armchair. “But now you showed me that you seem capable of using your own brain, Potter.” He stated and fell silent watching Harry attentively. 

Harry let his head fall down and he stared at his lap. This silence wasn't promising him any good. 

“Very well. We will begin immediately.” Snape said and Harry’s head snapped up. “I would need you to allow me access to your mind so, I could set up some shields, then I will give you the antidote. And we will start with Occlumency tomorrow.” Snape continued walking slowly to him, his black eyes never leaving Harry’s face. “Every morning we will begin at eight. Theory and potions first, practice in the afternoons. Evenings will be left for reading.” Harry blinked owlishly at Snape's harsh commands. “There will be no day's off. I don’t want hear any excuses. I expect complete obedience. Is that clear?” 

“Yes, sir.” Harry nodded, shocked and wide eyed looking up at his teacher looming over him. 

“Good.” Snape almost purred and then drew his wand. “Don’t struggle or this will hurt. _Legillimens_ _.”_

Immediately Harry was pulled inside the vortex of his thoughts and memories. Shapes, colours, impressions, all spinning before his eyes, mixed all together into blinding whiteness. He felt someone’s presence in his mind threading a dome over his thoughts. Snape. He didn’t try to peruse his memories but was building the walls inside Harry’s mind as he said. Like a force of nature Snape worked his way around the barriers and before Harry could focus on what he was doing he was done. 

Harry blinked and saw Snape returning to his seat. ‘ _Well, that was almost gentle.’_

“They should hold for some time. But you need to set up your own for full protection.” Snape placed potion vial on a table. “Antidote.” 

His mind was still running in circles about what just happened. ‘ _He agreed? He did, didn't he? Oh Merlin... He really agreed. And the shields...’_

Harry reached slowly for the potion feeling a little dizzy and more than a little confused. But, Harry figured, at least this man didn’t seem to be angry at him anymore, so Harry would choose confusion over anger anytime. 

He watched the swirling purple content of the vial and for the first time in days felt himself relax. Harry downed the potion in one go, its sweet taste lingered on his tongue and he sighed with relief when his mind cleared up a little. Maybe Snape would really help him to regain some semblance of control of his life. Snape watched him with slightly cocked head and intense stare. 

“Now, will you tell me why did you choose me to be your teacher?” He asked suddenly. Harry shook his head partly to wake himself from the daze Snape's recent actions had put him in, partly to show him that he doesn’t really know. 

“As I said, I don’t trust anyone else. Also, you wouldn't coddle me. I don’t need more coddling...” 

“Here we agree, Potter.” Snape interjected. 

“And you saved me. I know you had orders not to interfere, probably not to show yourself to the Dursleys at all, but you did it anyway...” Harry cleared his throat. “I also know that you sat by me after bringing me here. Even if Madam Pomfrey was available, you stayed by my side... Thank you.” 

“That still doesn't explain why me. Why would you trust only _me?_ ” Snape stressed. 

“No, I guess it doesn't. I don't really know anything about you... But that’s the truth, sir. I trust you.” Harry smiled sadly. “I don't trust anyone else. So, there is no one left to teach me. And I have a feeling that you are not so... involved in Headmaster’s manipulations. That you don’t condone all of it.” 

Snape's gaze darkened and raised one eyebrow. 

“I...” Harry started but his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I woke up before Headmaster came to me. I overheard him talking with Mrs Weasley about...” He took deep breath. “About some potions and charms they had on me, that they were interacting with each other and they were manipulating me with them... Something about dosing me up to make me compliant.” Harry fished the vial Headmaster left that night and placed it on the table. “After he woke me, he wanted me to drink this and I think he tried to force me to it with some sort of compulsion but I threw him off. They also mentioned you having reservations regarding the potions...” 

He dared a glance over to Snape’s face and saw that Professor appeared to be deeply satisfied with something. Or happy that his plans were taking place? Harry couldn’t tell. The man looked like a cat that ate the canary. He forced himself to continue. 

“After that I don't feel there is anyone in the Order that I could ask for help. I never trusted easily and all trust I had for them just... shattered. But somehow, I trust you now. I just follow my gut.” Harry finished awkwardly. 

“Interesting. I never thought you will start to fight the effects so fast.” The man watched him over his cup. Headmaster's vial still standing between them on the table. 

“Sir?” 

“When I was treating you, I found some charms and traces of potions I find very...” he made a disgusted face, “unsavoury. I got rid of them and placed an illusion, echo, so it will appear that they are still in place.” Snape explained calmly while sipping on his tea. 

“Why?” Harry was shocked to hear that revelation. From what he gathered he owed the man not only his life but also his current freedom. 

“Because I don't like being lied to, Mr Potter.” Professor snapped and that was enough for Harry to stop pushing. 

“I don’t like that either, Professor.” Harry said softly. 

“I presume that my... closeness to the Dark Lord is also played a factor in your choice.” 

“You are almost as close to him as I am.” Harry said pointing to the scar on his forehead. “You understand. I know you do.” 

Snape's lips tightened. “Yes. Yes, I do.” 

Harry smiled sadly again and let the silence envelope them again while they drank their tea. He broke it a few minutes later. 

“Sir, may I have one more request?” 

“Getting greedy?” Snape smirked. 

“Maybe. Sir, I assume that you will tell Dumbledore about this agreement.” 

Potion Master nodded. “He would like to hear about it.” Harry slumped in his chair. “But I will not tell him anything. His meddling has already wronged you enough.” 

Harry's gaze was again fixed on dark obsidian eyes. He couldn't believe Snape just proposed to keep this a secret from Dumbledore. 

“Surprised, Potter? Don't be. When I do owe the Headmaster for vouching for me after the first war, I am repaying that debt every day when I return to Dark Lord to spy for the Light.” Harry nodded. “And lately I do not agree with all of his decisions. Especially concerning certain young, brash Gryffindors.” Snape continued with blank expression and Harry couldn't help but snort. 

“Thank you.” 

“You won’t be thanking me tomorrow." 

“Probably that’s true.” Harry agreed remembering Snape's teaching methods. He took a few deep breaths. “Truthfully, this is not what I wanted to talk about exactly... I had some free time these past few days and I've found some books about wizarding law here in the library...” Harry stated casually. 

“Harry Potter, interested in law. Who would have thought?” Snape mocked. 

“For now, only in one part, sir. I am concerned what Dumbledore might force me to do once I return to school... I've read about emancipation.” 

“Aah, that one.” Snape hummed and Harry nodded. “I should have guessed that you would be interested in that particular section. The great escape.” 

Harry frowned. “I was only thinking if that would be possible in my situation.” 

Snape tapped one finger on his lower lip. “Hmm, in some cases, when relatives or current guardians are unfit to care for the young wizard, the said wizard can file for emancipation. The Ministry often calls for a witness to the neglect or abuse.” 

“That's what I found. It involves some kind of investigation?” 

“Yes, they would need to investigate your current guardians.” 

“Good luck with that...” Harry snorted. 

“This part is easy, Mr Potter.” Snape scoffed. “Next is not. They will check your records and search for an alternate guardian before they even consider to emancipate you. More likely multiple families will line up to foster you as soon as the word about your will to emancipate yourself gets out.” Snape mused and stood up. Harry watched him carefully as he set another pot of tea on the fire. 

“I am screwed aren’t I...?” Harry whispered watching the flames. 

“Language, Mr Potter.” Snape scolded him while walking back to his chair. “You know what it entails? What being emancipated mean?” 

“I will be considered an adult among the wizards. Trace will come off and I will be able to freely use magic. But I can finish school if I'd like.” 

"Yes, all that is true. But you forgot about one thing. Blood wards.” 

“Dumbledore did mention them before. But how that is relevant? I don't intend going back there ever again so they are pretty useless now.” 

“I hope you will stay away from them. Dealing with that Muggle once was tiresome enough.” Snape scoffed. “But it's not what I mean. Even if you aren't there, they protect you on some level, hide you from Him. When you renounce Dursleys as your relatives, and by that their house as your home, the blood wards will most probably come off completely.” 

Harry pondered on Professor's words. “So, if they would fall apart on my seventeenth birthday then no matter what I decide now, in a year, I would be hunted anyway.” He said cautiously. 

“That's one way to see it.” Snape agreed. 

“So why wait?” Harry shrugged. “For now, I am relatively safe here. As long no Order member tries to barge in, which will be hard to do now...” He added sourly. “And I don't think Dumbledore would risk my life and pass this address to anyone outside Order... Besides there is no safer place than Hogwarts, right? I just need to be cautious outside of school. Might as well renovate this place too.” 

Snape watched him intently but Harry held his gaze with determination and confidence he didn't feel at the moment. 

“Alright, Mr. Potter.” Snape said after a few minutes of staring. “I know someone in the Legal Department of the Ministry who owes me some favours... He would pull this off, grant your emancipation and, more importantly, keep this a secret as long as you wish.” 

Harry gawked at the news. “Will you really do this, sir? For me?” 

“I would.” Snape nodded leaning on the back of the chair. “No one deserves to be treated like you were." His eyes were dark and unforgiving. “As I said earlier, I do not take child abuse lightly. And we do not have much time. Certainly not enough to waste it for Ministry's bureaucracy and incompetence.” 

Harry gaped. “I... I don’t know how to thank you, sir...” He said astonished. 

“Then don't.” Snape barked sitting in his chair. “Just learn something this time, will you?” 

“Yes, sir!” Harry replied eagerly and Snape huffed with slight disgust. 

“Don’t make me regret this...” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Legendary - Welshly Arms


	4. Welcome to Life

**_You_** ** _wanna_** ** _take a look inside my head_**   
**_You_** ** _wanna_** ** _analyze_** ** _the things I've said_**   
**_Well, here we go again_**   
**_I know what you're_** ** _gonna_** ** _find_**

_**1)** _

Snape was good on his promises. He was harsh, austere and demanding. Discipline and obedience were always first and he ran a very rigorous schedule. He showed on Harry's doorstep every morning at eight and often left after ten in the afternoon. Years old misunderstandings and long hours in close quarters caused their first week of collaborating to be a constant struggle. They disagreed on almost everything. Was it wheather they should revise what Harry knows already or simply go with anything Snape thought of being useful. Harry was constantly exhausted and still throwing off effects of potions that ran through his body for so many years wasn't helping him with Snape. Who was unforgiving whenever Harry slacked off. Especially when it came to Occlumency. Harry never was more determined to master something and, surprisingly, he was getting better every day, but Snape pushed him relentlessly. So much, that sometimes Harry wanted to scream for him to back off just for a minute. But Harry had to admit that Snape's methods were working. At least were whenever he wanted to teach.

And Harry now actually wanted to learn. Besides, Harry respected that Snape held on to his word. It was almost frightening how adamant the man was about keeping his word. But Harry was grateful how much he was doing for him.

Despite all the arguing, first week passed on quickly and when Friday came, Harry’s emancipation papers were brought by small inconspicuous owl. Few pieces of parchment with Ministry’s seal and Harry suddenly felt free. At least freer than he had a week before. 

One shackle less on his battered body. 

Each day he owed more and more to that sour man. 

Before Harry’s birthday, they settled into their routine. They stopped fighting each other over every small detail and started to talk. Harry thought that it was all thanks to duelling. Being able to blow off some steam while learning from each other smoothed things between them. And Harry felt lucky. Snape had an even more impressive arsenal of spells on his hands than Harry thought possible. They were truly thriving durring those sessions. They pushed each other and even if their sessions often ended with black bruises, cuts and destroyed clothes he was almost happy.

As they duelled every evening Harry soon ran out of clothes that weren't ripped, threader or hinged. It was disturbing to ask Snape if he can go shopping with him, but the man was surprisingly supportive. Reluctant, but supportive. They spend few hours in Muggle parts of London, heavily glamoured, and Harry was buying everything that caught his eye. Jeans, shirts, sweaters. Underwear, shoes, socks. Warm winter coat. They even stopped by Diagon Alley where Harry bought a few sets of new school robes. 

Days passed and Harry grew more and more comfortable with dark presence of his Professor. Purging the last traces of Dumbledore’s potions helped. His antipathy for everything Slytherin fading away with them. His mind cleared up too, memorizing became easier. Even his memories gained more definition. He understood now how thoroughly they manipulated him. Even forced to overlook their slips and to believe everything they say. But now Harry finally felt like he fit inside his own skin.

Harry wanted to have it in him to plot revenge. He was furious. Betrayed. Hurt. But he realized that making it on his own and learning as much as he can to survive was more important. So, he started to swallow knowledge. The more he read the easier it got to learn more. And Harry was eager to learn, not only because it raised his chances of survival, but because now he _wanted_ to learn. This thirst for knowledge helped him to do all the work Snape assigned to him and as August began Harry stopped falling asleep in his library, drooling all over his books. 

Their whole arrangement was going better than he hoped. He was almost dreading the moment this will come to an end. 

He was starting to like the mean bastard. 

**_I'm cold, it's dark_**   
**_I'm fighting with myself_**   
**_Sometimes I wish that I was someone else_**

_**2)** _

Summer was almost over and Severus watched as Potter diligently worked on the Veritaserum and wondered how the boy managed to get all his assignments done. Two weeks left till the first of September and the boy was already ahead of the plan Severus drafted for him this first day of their cooperation. And Severus wasn’t going easy on him. He wanted to push Potter to his limits and break them. And then push him even more. He almost buried him in books and tasks... But the boy somehow managed to get it all done _and_ read ahead. 

“Potter.” Severus called when the boy put down the stirring rod and prepared the potion to simmer for the next twenty-four hours. “How do you manage to do this?” He asked looming over the shorter wizard. 

“The potion, sir?” Potter asked rising his eyebrows. “I just follow the recipe...” 

“No, Potter.” Potion Master snarled. “All this time you managed to do all the work that I assign you. And it was meant to swamp you. Yet, you seem well rested and I know that you don’t have any outside help. I’ve checked... What is your secret, Potter?” 

He watched as the boy stared blankly at him, seemingly unfazed by his scrutiny for a moment before Potter sighed and pulled on the leather strap on his neck. There was a small silver hourglass attached to the end. Severus’ eyes widened. He heard that all of the artifacts were destroyed during Potter’s escapade to the Ministry last month. 

“A Time Turner, Mr Potter?” He kept his tone neutral, holding a steel grip on his nerves. Time Turner’s were extremely dangerous and their usage was strictly regulated for a reason. One little slip and Potter could erase himself from existence. “How...?” 

Potter sighed again and leaned against the worktable. “We were running from the Death Eaters in the Department of the Mysteries. Dolohov and one other, I can’t remember which one, Avery maybe, were right behind us. They cursed Hermione, injured Neville. Tried to capture me.” The boy gazed into the distance wrapped in the memory, his voice monotone, as if he was under the influence of the exact potion he was brewing. “Spells were flying everywhere. Some missed and destroyed the whole cabinet full of the Time Turners, but I found this one when I fell... I just snatched it without thinking. I hoped I could use it to save Sirius... But I never got the chance. Not before the limit...” 

Severus measured the boy sitting in front of him. He wasn’t overly tired, nor intoxicated on Pepper Up potions. It seemed that he was using the artifact with proper caution. 

“So, you knew about the twenty-four-hour limit? What about other rules?” 

“Hermione got one of those in our third year, you know. To get to all the classes she signed up for. She kept it a secret until the end of year.” Potter said with a crooked smile but it slipped to neutral expression fairly quickly. “After we got out of the Ministry in June, I was watched, doused with sleeping potions...” Potter swallowed hardly. “After I woke up, I asked myself if this was a good idea. I already used the Time Turner once to save Sirius from death, from the Kiss in my third year” he confessed throwing Severus slightly guilty look, “but then he was still alive when we went back... What would have happened if I pulled him out his time? Will I be pulling him from behind the Veil? Will it work? There were so many unknowns that I’ve let the chance to pass...” He finished barely audibly and a small tear ran down the boy’s cheek. “I felt so guilty... I could have tried to save him but I’ve let him go.” More tears fell down those pale cheeks. “I know you hated him but I for me he was one true family I ever had. And Dumbledore tried to use his death to push me further down whatever path he prepared for me...” 

Severus didn’t say a word, only put a hand on Potter’s arm and squeezed. He wasn’t the right person to ask for comfort and reassurance, but Potter smiled at him weakly through the tears. They stayed in oddly comfortable silence for a few minutes before Potter wiped his face and whispered quietly. 

“Thank you, sir.” 

“Don’t mention it, Potter.” He dismissed him, apparently without a care, but internally he felt slightly embarrassed. He started to grow attached to the boy. “I just hope you are using this Time Turner with all the caution it requires.” 

“Of course, sir.” Potter smiled at him and picked up his wand from the table. “I know it’s not according to the schedule but can we duel now? I need to blow off some steam.” 

Severus smirked feeling amused. “Follow me, Potter.” 

**_Keep you in the dark_**   
**_You know they all pretend_**   
**_Keep you in the dark_**   
**_And so, it all began_**

**_3)_**

Harry paid the cab driver while his companion headed to the station to grab a trolley. He looked around feeling odd tightness in his stomach. In the last few years, the sight of King's Cross station on fist of September always put him at ease, made him feel like he was going home. But this year was different. Harry sighed heavily and leaned against his trunk waiting. He wanted to call another cab and go back to the shadowy corridors of the house Sirius left him. Dull pang in his chest at the thought of his godfather still stole his breath. Everything changed after he died those few months ago. Harry wondered what he would have said about his new accomplice. 

Small smile crept on his face as he watched the tall man push empty trolley his way. Lately, the sight of that annoyed scowl on the man’s face was putting Harry in a weirdly good mood. As long as it wasn't directed at him. No, wait, even then, the man was still scaring him. Less than before but still scaring. 

“I know we've been through this, but...” Harry said as the man approached him. 

“Stop whining, Potter.” The man snapped and Harry let out another heavy sigh. He leaned to put his trunk onto the trolley. “You know that you can't just quit now. For many reasons.” 

“I know, _Professor_.” Harry said half-mockingly. “But that doesn't mean I have to like it.” He looked the man in the eyes a little sad he had to disguise himself. Murky blue eyes weren't as expressive in showing man's emotions as his natural black ones. In the last two months he learnt how to read every little frown, tight-lipped smirk, subtle changes in the intonation. Dark and dreadful professor, hated by everyone, wasn't so evil as everyone thought. He just preferred to keep everything to himself. Harry understood that. And envied his ability to keep everyone at a distance. 

“OK. Let's do this.” Harry sighed again and pushed his trolley towards platforms nine and ten. 

They approached the barrier separating platforms nine and ten without being bothered by anyone. 

“I am not so recognizable without my spectacles, huh?” Harry mused tugging on loose bangs covering his scar looking at few familiar faces passing him without recognition. 

“And without those old baggy clothes I daresay.” His companion chimed in, sneering. “That's a good thing.” The man put a hand on his arm and squeezed lightly. Harry looked at him taken back by the gesture and gentle words but quickly gathered himself. 

“Hey, Professor, that almost sounds like you care.” Harry couldn’t help but chuckle. The idea of this man warming up to him was... disturbing. 

Fingers clenched on his shoulder painfully. “Don’t get stupid ideas, Potter. I still think you are a right dunderhead to push the ritual. One mistake, one, and you would be blind.” Proffesor pushed him towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten, and a few steps later they emerged on the other side. Right in the middle of the 'sending kids back to school' clatter that seemed different this year. Scared and tense. Harry supposed that was to be expected. 

“Alight. You arrived here safely. Now I can go.” Man said to him but was still clutching his arm, giving him a pointed stare. 

“Thank you, Professor, for everything. I can take it from here.” Harry said allowing his trunk to float off the trolley and hover beside him. 

“You better do. After all that work... I hope something stuck.” Man said bitterly. “Don’t disappoint me.” 

“I will try not to. Are we still arranged for Friday?” Harry asked trying not to sound too hopeful. 

“Yes. I will owl you when I prepare everything.” He nodded and squeezed his arm again. “Watch out what you say to your welcome committee.” He said dismissively and turned back walking swiftly through the barrier separating wizarding and Muggle world. 

“What?” Harry asked surprised looking after the man and then shrugged. He had a train to catch. Explaining to Professor why he wasn't on the train after everything he did to get him here. Polyjuicing, keeping his secrets, shopping for school materials and clothes, training... It wouldn't be pleasant. Or safe. He would tear into him as if Harry was a piece of paper. Harry cleared his throat feeling uneasy at the thought and started walking, navigating his trunk behind him with subtle movements of his wrist. 

He considered himself lucky because he wasn't recognized by anyone as he approached the train. But of course, he had to run out of luck. 

“Harry?!” Came a yell from the crowd. 

He groaned loudly. He hoped for at least an hour of peace and quiet before they find him. 

“Abandon all hope ye who enter here...” Harry mumbled to himself turning around to face people walking up to him. He saw Mr and Mrs Weasley with Ron and Ginny, few steps behind Hermione leading the group and there was even Remus trailing behind them.

“Harry? Is that really you?” Hermione asked incredulously, standing in front of him and measured Harry up. "You look different." Weasleys were gathering behind her, looking at him, smiling a little too widely. Now, he saw the uncertainty flicker in their eyes. Now, he saw the little signs, twitches, that it was forced, only for a show. He eyed them carefully and decided not to play all his cards just yet. Not let them know what he knows. 

He will play them like they played him. But he won’t be spending another minute in their company. Ever, if he has something to say about it. 

“The one and only.” He answered coldly putting a blank expression on his face. Hermione and Ron's entwined hands didn't go unnoticed. 

“Harry! I'm so happy you're here!” She exclaimed letting Ron's hand go and reaching out to Harry, trying to put her arms around him but he stepped back. 

“Don’t.” He said harshly, glaring at her and he stepped aside. “Now excuse me, I've got a train to catch.” He pointed to the steps but everyone just stood there blocking his way with hurt and shocked expressions on their faces but he didn't have it in him to care. They betrayed him. Everything they went through together wasn't genuine, wasn't true... Because they listened to orders of that senile, old chump. 

As if they didn’t know better. 

“Harry...” Mrs Weasley started smiling as if he was getting silly. 

“No, Mrs Weasley. Just no.” He stopped her and steeled his features. 

“But this is silly. We care about you. Can't you just...” She tried to pat his arm but he moved back another step. 

“You care?” Harry spluttered shocked and instantly furious. His indifference completely shattered. “You call that caring? Then, please, stop! Just stop.” He was raising his voice in anger, but kept close watch on what he was telling them. This time he won’t slip and blurt his secrets. He had more control now. “After all that happened last year you were silent all summer. One short note on my birthday, and you come to me like nothing happened...? I was shattered and hurt and you just shipped me off to my relatives.” He was getting angrier by the second but his heart was growing colder. “I know Dumbledore told you what my uncle did to me. Where, in the end, I spent all summer. Alone.” He folded his arms around his chest shielding himself from these people. He had trusted them and they hurt him. Again. “You realize it was all thanks to you. That by sending this short note to Dursley's and telling them about Sirius' death you caused me all that pain? Well done.” He sneered at their uneasy squirming. For a moment he thought that guilt gleamed in Hermione’s and Remus' eyes. “So, let me tell you something, you do not care. If you did you would have asked, at least, how I was faring there. Asked why, every time I spend more than a week at Dursleys, I am losing weight. Why, sometimes, I wince at the touch? But no. You just obeyed orders and told yourself that you don’t have to do anything. That it doesn’t concern you. You saw something is not right and you didn't do squat. Just pretended to care.” He gazed at them furiously and they squirmed slightly. At least they had the decency to feel a little bit embarrassed. “Because Dumbledore told you that I will be safe there because of some blood wards.” 

“It was the safest...” Mr. Weasley attempted to defend themselves. 

“Safest?” Harry laughed darkly. “Did you know that they beat me? That this wasn’t a first time I was close to dying there? That they worked me worse than a house elf? Starved me? That your _concerned_ note about Sirius was the cause why Vernon almost killed me. That sorry excuse of an uncle had beaten me to an inch away from death. Again.” He hissed feeling some twisted pleasure from their shocked looks. “I guess Dumbledore didn't tell you all that.” Harry scoffed. “And, Remus? I saw you that evening I sealed off Grimmauld. You knew why I was there, right? Alone with all those memories of Sirius. Slowly recuperating from all the damage my uncle did. Only with Kreacher as company. We both cared for him. We could have grieved together. But still nothing, huh?" Harry huffed with contempt and looked over them. "Don't tell me anything about caring. If it wasn't for Professor Snape, yes, the good old hateful Snape, I would be dead. And he hates my guts. You act like you are my family but all you do is lie to me and let me down. You've lost my trust. You've lost my respect. Trying to act like none of this matters you’ve lost the last ounce of my interest in your fate. Please, take your _caring_ and choke on it.” Harry finished cruelly and walked away, his trunk floating behind him. 

His fury must have been visible on his face as he pushed himself through the crowd because people parted in front of him without a word. Quickly, he entered the carriage and slid into the first empty compartment he saw instantly locking the doors and closing the curtains. Suddenly he felt drained and it wasn't even noon. All he wanted is to curl on the bench and fall asleep. 

Instead he closed his eyes just for a minute. He thought that he worked hard during the summer and left those feelings behind him. But it still hurt. It hurt seeing them like that. They've got each other while he was struggling to keep himself afloat. While he wrestled with impending madness. Fought for every ounce of control he had. Everything to not give into this crippling feeling of loss. For a split second he enjoyed the memory of the guilt he saw in their eyes but it wasn't enough to lift his spirit. He felt empty. 

One thing was hearing about their schemes through a crack under the door, another seeing their masks of friendliness and hearing their lies. 

Harry sighed heavily and stood up. Quickly rummaged through his trunk he pulled out his new set of school robes and a small leather-bound journal. He had a lot of reading to do before his Friday's meeting with the Professor. 

**_You try to catch the pieces_  
** **_As they fall down from the sky_  
** **_The feelings haunt your heart_  
** ******_'Cuz you know that you're living a lie_**

**_4)_ **

From the moment he stepped on platform nine and three quarters for the first time, he knew that things will be different. Hell, he knew it from the moment he had performed his first accidental magic, from the day he received his acceptance letter, when he got his wand... And back then, he could feel it. Feel the vast ocean of possibilities had hung above the chaos of children, parents and variety of animals crowding on a concealed platform. The scarlet Hogwart Express that was supposed to take them on their big journey promised new beginnings. He could feel joy and anticipation in the air. 

And he could hope. That everything will be different. 

Better. 

He was such a naive fool. 

Now, at the beginning of his sixth year, he was far from hopeful. He was furious. Draco Malfoy emerged alone from the shadows in the corner of the platform where portkey brought him with almost inaudible crack. With narrowed eyes he observed less chaotic, more nervous crowd gathered on the platform. Parents were hugging their children goodbye worried, almost desperate. Even students' pets made less racket this year. 

He walked slowly to the train dragging his trunk after him. He noticed how people moved out of his way almost as if they were scared, but that was to be expected. With his father in Azkaban after this last year's commotion in the Ministry he expected nothing less than the scared and suspicious stares that he was given. 

Especially when they had the right to be suspicious. He resisted the urge to glare at them all and fixed his eyes on the entrance to the carriage near end of the train. 

“Are you an angel, sir?” He heard a tiny girly voice calling behind him. He just flicked his loose hair to his back not even bothering looking. 

“Quite the opposite, my dear.” He answered quietly with a dark edge in his voice and quickly disappeared inside the train. 

Draco quickly moved through narrow corridor and found an empty compartment. The need of isolation was new to him. Earlier he basked in the attention. The looks, buzz of people surrounding him... He lived for those moments. Now he just wanted to be alone. So, he didn't have to lie his ass off to everyone. Already exhausted, Draco stood in the narrow doorway glaring at anyone who might look his way or, Merlin have mercy on them, try to approach him thinking they can sit with him. That even included other Slytherins. He wasn't in the mood to talk about what had happened this summer, to answer questions on how his mother dealt with the fact that his father is in Azkaban, to tell them about _the guest_ in his house... He knew they knew, at least about part of it, but they didn't understand. Not really. And he couldn't tell them anything to make them understand. 

“No, Pansy. I do not want to sit with you. Any of you, for that matter.” Draco said, for a tenth time in the last few minutes. He dragged his gaze on Blaise and Theodore standing beside her. “I want you to leave me alone.” 

“But, Drakey...” She whispered, her voice low and eyelashes fluttering. She tried to touch his arm but he caught her hand in tight grip. 

“I think you have trouble hearing me, Parkinson.” He said straightening himself and looming over her, his voice ice cold and quiet. He smirked as she flinched and then winced when he tightened his grip on her wrist. “I don't want you here. Go away before you regret finding out what I will do to you if you don't listen.” He shoved her lightly. She stumbled slightly, looking simultaneously offended and scared. Even tried to open her mouth like she wanted to say something but one rise of pale brow made her shut her trap. 

With a snap of her boot Parkinson turned on her heels and dragged two shocked boys down the corridor. Draco sighed contently and leaned his head on a doorframe. He glared at a few second years who stared at him wide eyed. 

“You better go too. Before you gain yourself a detention.” He said quietly with utter boredom in his tone and pointed to his Prefect badge. Kids fell back and stumbled as if he was threatening to kill them. 

Draco let out long sigh and folded his arms on his chest. Only five more minutes before the train leaves and he could end this self-imposed guard duty. He appraised his reflection in the window. Growing almost ten inches during last year corrected his stature and enhanced his regal looks. He was proud of his body now. Even with all that was happening in his house during the summer and the training he was put through he simply enjoyed that he wasn't that bony, weak kid anymore. He was still lean but broader shoulders and firm muscles made all the difference and he filled his new clothes nicely. Losing the gel, and other similar hair products, did him even more good. Long white-blond hair fell loosely on his back and shoulders, framing his sharp features. Light grey eyes stood out on his shadowed face. Pale complexion complimenting pinkish lips stretched to the side in small smirk. Straight nose and fair eyebrows completed the picture of what he liked to call, when vanity struck, a perfection. 

And with the sun falling in from the window behind his back there indeed was some angelic aura to him. 

“Maybe that little girl was onto something.” He chuckled and stared down the corridor letting his thought wander around. 

“...stop! Just stop.” Came in angry voice from the platform pulling Draco away from his daze. He turned his head to the window and noticed a small crowd gathered outside. Draco spotted black haired boy that was speaking loudly in annoyance. He looked strange but familiar. Almost too familiar. “...you come to me like nothing happened...? One short note on my birthday, and you come to me like nothing happened...?” Boy was ranting and Draco got quickly bored. He shifted his gaze to people surrounding familiar looking teen. Bunch of redheads and one bushy-haired girl were squirming uncomfortably. 

“Weasleys.” Draco sighed with disdain. And then it clicked. He snapped his head and leaned across the corridor to get a better look at a boy that was still scolding redheads outside with lowered voice. “Then this must be... Potter...?” Draco asked himself, disbelieving. 

Just like Draco, the Golden Boy had changed during the summer. He was taller and his hair grew a lot longer, he tied them into a messy ponytail on top of his head leaving a few short bangs covering the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. He also ditched his old oversized clothes. New black trousers fitted him perfectly and were well matched with tailored grey dress shirt and slightly worn-out black leather jacket thrown over his shoulders. It was slightly oversized but it looked good on his slim figure. New sneakers replaced his old trainers. 

“Bloody...” Draco whispered taking in the sight. Potter looked so different from a clearly neglected child that attended Hogwarts for the last five years. He still was thin and lithe but more on the slim than emaciated side. Draco moved his eyes to his face and sucked in air sharply. Even when Potter's brows were furrowed in anger there was overwhelming sadness filling his features. Tightness of the jaw, veins pulsing on his temple. Draco noticed a pink scar crossing over his left eye. Straight and smooth line began at the hairline and ended on the cheekbone. It was fresh, less than a month old, probably from a knife, and Draco wondered how did this happen. Accident over the summer? Then he noticed absolute lack of glasses on Potters face. He stared in shock. Even from a distance he could see that wide green eyes that were filled with so much fire, sadness mixed with anger, that made Draco's breath hitch in his throat. 

Draco felt like enchanted as his eyes roamed freely on Potter's usually tan skin that was now pale and he noticed how stiffly Potter held himself shaking his head. Whatever Weasleys said to him only made him angrier. He lifts up his hands shaking his head more violently and with a few quiet words, a flick of his wrist he spun on his heels and walked away. His trunk floated after him. 

Draco watched Weasleys for a moment but they didn't do anything to stop him. None of them followed. _'_ _Interesting’_ he thought to himself and swore under his breath as he felt heat enveloping his forearm and warm wetness on his fingers. He knew it was blood. He retreated to his chosen compartment and shut the doors and then the curtains tightly. Throwing few privacy wards for the good measure. 

He quickly took off his shirt and prepared fresh dressing for his wound. 

It was fucking typical. Potter was surrounded by people who clearly cared about him and he is ready to throw it all away. While Draco was dealing with all the shit his life turned out to be lately, alone. Fucking Golden Boy with his stupid scars and alluring mysteries surrounding him. 

Draco stared angrily at the bleeding mark staining his otherwise perfect skin. With a brand from a homicidal egomaniac he felt like damaged goods. Disfigured. His life didn't even start and he was already broken. The damn thing won't even heal properly. 

His anger rose threatening to swallow him whole. Draco forced himself to stay calm as he quickly placed healing salve and wrapped his arm in fresh bandages, banishing the used ones. 

“What a mess...” He said to himself as he Scourgified the last smudges of his blood that were staining the floor, his clothes and hands. He leaned heavily on the bench and closed his eyes trying to put his mind in meditative state. 

That wasn't easy. But nothing in Draco's life was easy and that never stopped him before. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Freakshow - The Nearly Deads  
> 2) Sinking Like A Stone - Maddison  
> 3) Pretender - Foo Fighters  
> 4) Living A Lie - Incura


	5. Antisocial

**_I'm cold, it's dark_**  
 ** _I'm fighting with myself_**   
**_Sometimes I wish that I was someone else_**

**_1)_ **

Train ride was uneventful for Draco. Because no one, in their right mind, would consider Granger barging in and trying to shame him into participating in his Prefects duties an event... For a moment it was fun watching her struggle to come up with some witty retort but it turned boring after a few missed shots. He pushed her out the compartment smirking at her exasperated face. Things like that kept him amused when his life was turning into hot pile of smouldering ash. 

Bleakness of his future and lack of distractions was why he sighed with relief when the train finally slowed down and the arrived at its destination in Hogsmeade. He felt trapped in this train. It was too easy to find him. Don't get him wrong. He liked to be stared at, admired, even feared a little. He knew that he thrived on attention but lately this was getting too much. Everyone wanted something from him. His father, professors, his peers and worst of them all – Aunt Bellatrix and her Master. Giving him tasks he... 

Draco shook his head stopping himself from even thinking about it. He peeked from behind the curtains and waited for the crowd of kids to disperse. He saw Pansy looking around, expectance etched in the lines of her face. Draco knew she was looking for him and he huffed annoyed. That girl was daft, but was quick to give up. He watched as she followed the majoroty of the students that got onto their carriages. Only then left the train. 

When he was walking up the road to castle and noticed that almost all of the carriages already left. That's where he saw Potter waiting for one of the last ones. He was alone. 

“Oi, Scarface!” Draco yelled gaining his attention and Potter threw him a look over his shoulder. “Lost a few appendages? Had they realized that they don't need you and ran off?” He smirked when Potter tensed and turned away. Dark haired teen measured him up before answering.

“Didn't lose them. Let's call it... taking a breather.” Potter replied impassively and disappeared inside the carriage which swiftly rode away. 

Draco raised his pale brow, partly in annoyance, partly intrigued. He wondered what happened to Potter this summer. He heard that his godfather had died in the Ministry but Draco expected him to be more of an emotional wreck, easy to rile up, ready to amuse him, to distract Draco from his problems. He wanted him to get angry, to get up and fight him. How could be so calm? So cold? Everything was going to shit and he seemed like he didn't even care. Draco's aunt killed his godfather, his friends apparently left him alone and that was all? 

He straightened his back and quickly followed the raven-haired boy, catching the last carriage to the castle. This was his longest carriage ride so far. Anger started bubbling inside him and every bump on the road made him even angrier. He really didn't want all of this. All he could think of was Potter and his sadness and anger he witnessed on the platform. He wanted to see that anger again, this spark in his eyes when he feels offended, the dark tones in his voice when he is annoyed... Not that impassiveness he just showed him. 

But if Draco was really good at anything it was making Potter angry. He will try again. After all, Potter was nothing if not a self-proclaimed hero and threatening any of his peers will work as a charm. As always. 

Draco hopped out of his carriage and lazily walked towards the Great Hall. While he was crossing Entrance Hall, he noticed Potter leaning on the stairs bannister like he was waiting for someone, head slumped, rolling something small, a trinket perhaps, between his fingers. He opened his mouth to taunt him again but he was cut off by Professor Snape emerging from the dungeons. Draco stopped and nodded curtly to his Head of House. 

Snape's dark eyes narrowed and his boots rapped on marble floors as he strode through the Entrance Hall. 

“Go to the feast, Mr. Malfoy.” Professor Snape growled lowly and climbed the stairs. “Detention, Friday at 7 PM will teach you not to be late next time.” He said while passing the boy who lived on the steps. 

Draco watched amused as Potter's head snapped up, disbelief painted on his face. 

“What?” Potter asked dumbly. Draco sneered and followed his Snape up the stairs. 

“You heard me, Potter.” Snape stopped at the top of the stairs and looked him over with furrowed brows. “Now go, before I make that a week.” 

Potter scowled but pushed himself off the bannister and hastily entered the Great Hall. Draco noticed blank but hard expression on Snape's face and decided not to cross him. Not tonight at least. But as he was about to enter the Hall his godfather called him again. 

“Draco, come and see me tomorrow after dinner. My office.” 

Draco just nodded in acknowledgement but didn't stop in his steps as he entered the crowded Hall. 

_** And everybody wanted something   
Reaching out, don't fucking touch me ** _

**_2)_ **

Harry entered the Great Hall, just as the Sorting started, struggling to hide amused smirk from gracing his lips. Trust Snape to be civilized after the summer he spent with the man. But he understood they needed to keep up the appearances. Keep the illusion of mutual hatered. He wasn’t going to complain, detentions were a fairly good excuse to keep their training under wraps. So, he wasn’t going to be upset. At least not about that. 

He glanced over his shoulder to look at Malfoy following him inside the room, his expression again cool and distant. The blonde looked annoyed and somehow distracted as he walked to Slytherin table. Harry shrugged barely lifting his shoulders and walked over to the Gryffindor table. He tightened his lips as he saw Ron getting up slightly and waving for him. Harry just raised his brow staring him down with an icy stare and sat at the far end of the table, near the entrance. Far away from the teacher’s table and far away from his supposed friends. 

Quickly growing bored of the Sorting Ceremony, he pulled out black journal from his robes. Revised his notes on the book he read on the train and with a little flick of his fingers he added a few new ones. Afterthoughts for later. He ignored looks other students were throwing at him. He could feel their curiosity and was tempted to reach with his mind and see if that was because they didn’t recognize him or because they did and wondered what had happened to him. Ultimately, he found that he didn’t care enough. And, as he remembered Snape’s lectures, Occlumency and Legilimency aren't a toys and privacy aren’t a thing that can be violated lightly. 

As the Sorting came to an end Harry lifted his head from the journal wondering what nonsense this manipulative old bastard would try to sell this time. Harry scoffed as Dumbledore got to his feet smiling. He knew that wasn’t genuine. Probably nothing about the conniving fool was honest. 

“The very best of evenings to you!” Headmaster said, smiling broadly his arms opened wide as though to embrace the whole room. 

Harry shook his head slightly as he felt the now familiar tingle of magic coming in waves from the Headmaster. It was the worst kind of Dark Magic, grim and tarry, a curse that was now entangled with Headmasters magic pattern. Snape told him about Dumbledore’s injury but to see the charred fingers for himself... Made it more real. Powerful wizard like that taken down by a simple curse. Unbreakable, but still simple. He almost felt sorry for the Headmaster. Even with Snape’s help and his inhibiting potions he didn’t had much time. Less than a year he would say. 

Dumbledore merely smiled and shook his purple-and-gold sleeve over his injured hand as more students began to notice it. 

“Nothing to worry about.” he said airily. “Now... to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you...” Harry almost smirked at that. He had learnt more over the last two months under Snape’s tutelage than during the past five years. 

“...and Mr. Filch, our caretaker, asked me to say that there is a blanket ban on any joke items bought at Zonko’s or the shop called Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.” Harry again tuned in to Headmaster’s speech. “Those wishing to play for their House Quidditch teams should give their names to their respective Heads of House. We are also looking for new Quidditch commentators, who should do likewise.” Dumbledore smiled searching the Hall with twinkling eyes. Harry deadpanned as Headmasters eyes fell on him. Small rise of an eyebrow and old wizard continued. 

“We are pleased to welcome a new member of the staff this year, Professor Slughorn” - Slughorn stood up, his bald head gleaming in candlelight, his big waist-coated belly casting the table into shadow - “is a former colleague of mine has agreed to resume his old post of Potions Master.” 

“Potions?” 

“Potions?” 

The word echoed all over the Hall as more students wondered if what they heard was right. Harry watched their confusion with a small, almost unnoticeable, smile on his lips. He knew what will be announced next and waited for the havoc Headmasters words will ensue. 

“Professor Snape, meanwhile,” said Dumbledore, raising his voice so that it carried over all the muttering, “will be taking the position of Defence of the Dark Arts teacher.” 

“What!?” Harry heard Ron exclaim, his voice echoing above the clatter that erupted, causing many heads to turn to him. He tried not to smile widely and looked at Snape who was slowly raising his hand in acknowledgement of the applause that resounded from the Slytherin table. He noticed a flicker of triumph in Professor’s dark eyes and almost non-existent nod when their stares locked for a brief moment. Harry showed him what he thought of all that drama and rolled his eyes in response, still keeping his face blank and looked around. 

He observed Slytherins as their enthusiasm was sluggishly dying out and soon fixed his eyes on Malfoy who had a somewhat proud expression on his face. But Harry devoted some of his time this summer to study elusive emotions of one Severus Snape to whom Draco Malfoy was no match. Harry saw how tense the blond boy was. Scared even. But despite being so obviously stressed, he was still holding tall and confident and paradoxically looked more regal with his blond hair hanging loosely around his face and back than they ever did slicked back. He also seemed like he put on some weight and muscle making him fill out his clothes more. 

Harry smirked minutely. Maybe he wasn’t the only one that changed over the summer. It seemed that absence of Malfoy the elder did him a lot of good. 

Dumbledore cleared his throat. Seemingly oblivious to the sensational nature of the news he had just imparted, Headmaster said nothing more about staff appointments, but waited a few seconds to ensure that the silence was absolute before continuing. 

“Now, as everybody in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength.” 

The silence seemed to tauten and strain as Dumbledore spoke. 

“I cannot emphasize strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is, and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure that we remain safe. The castle’s magical fortifications have been strengthened over the summer, we are protected in a new and more powerful ways, but we must still guard scrupulously against carelessness on the part of any student or member of staff. I urge you, therefore, to abide by any security restrictions that you teachers might impose upon you, however irksome you might find them — in particular, the rule that you are not to be out of after hours. I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, always, with the utmost regard for your own and others’ safety." Dumbledore’s blue eyes swept over the students before he smiled once more. 

“But, for now, let’s enjoy this evening. Dug in!” Dumbledore waved his hand and plates and platters filled with food. 

Harry laid his journal on the table and filled his plate not speaking a word to anyone around him. But he couldn't even do that, let alone eat, in peace. 

“How was your summer Harry?” 

“Are you alright?” 

“Why are you sitting here, Harry? Why not with Ron and Hermione?” 

“You heard that, Harry? Snape teaching Defence? This is crazy!” 

“Have you really _broken_ into Ministry last year?” 

“Harry?” 

“What is so interesting that you are reading it during Welcome Feast, Harry?” 

He grits his teeth during their questioning. He gave short monosyllabic answers and never looked up from his journal. 

He had enough after one of the younger boys tried to touch his arm. He caught his wrist and pushed him back slightly. 

“Enough. You bloody morons can't take a hint.” He said narrowing his eyes and searched the faces of kids surrounding him. “Let me spell it out for you. Leave me, the fuck, alone.” He let go of boy’s arm, probably leaving a hand-shaped bruise on his wrist and turned back to his food. He smirked darkly as the other Gryffindors scurried away leaving a little more space around him. 

Harry sighed with relief and returned to reading his notebook. Glad he can finish his meal in silence. 

**_ Tensions are boiling   
To the point of overflowing   
The stage is set _ **

**_ 3) _ **

Draco was focused on the black-haired Gryffindor. The Golden Boy was sitting alone, on the far end of the table with schooled expression on his face. He ate in silence, ignoring occasional questions his housemates asked him, saying no more than a few words during the whole meal at never shifting his focus from a leather-bound journal that he pulled from his robes. The rest of the Golden Trio was awfully quiet and were throwing concerned looks at the Golden Boy on the other end of the table. In turn, he ignored them completely. 

The question ‘What the hell happened there?’ flashed in his mind for umpteenth time today. Did his grief run too deeply inside him that even those two morons couldn't help him? Basing on the scared and worried looks Granger and Weasley had he wouldn't be surprised if Potter turned out to be suicidal... 

Obviously, there was something haunting in him. For Draco he was always somehow interesting but now he almost couldn't tear his eyes away. Something changed Potter's life drastically and there was no way going back. And it was more than a death of a family member. He changed and that was intriguing. He seemed less naïve and candid, more cautious and reserved. Less open, ready to closely guard his secrets. Almost like a Slytherin... 

As he observed the Gryffindor’s table, he ostentatiously ignored the looks his own housemates were throwing him. He was still angry after the incident on the train. Also, Draco was so wrapped in planning how to make Potter angry, to wipe that blank impassiveness from his face that he didn't even notice how strange and sometimes angry their looks were. If he paid them even a little attention he would have scoffed at how sloppy their vigilance was.

Halfway through the feast Draco shook his head in disbelief. He was starting to get obsessed. Or more obsessed than he was before. 

But truth to be told, riling up Potter was a sign of normalcy. A normalcy he so needed right now. Making Potter fall into trouble, pranking him, throwing insults... It was normal. Their hateful relationship was a constant in his life. Safe area. He wasn't about to lose it like he was losing everything else... 

Suddenly, all he wanted was this feast to end so he could cocoon himself in the warm blankets and pretend that tomorrow would be better. 

Pretend that he was still allowed to dream. To live his life as his own, not as a shell for his father's ambitions. 

_** We can't let our demons take control of us   
We should know what we are capable of ** _

_** 4) ** _

The second the Welcome Feast has ended Harry was gone from the Great Hall. An hour he spent there, surrounded by the people he once trusted, exhausted him more than his duelling sessions with the Professor. He had to get out of there. So, five minutes before Dumbledore announced the end, Harry bent his morals and perused one of the Prefect’s mind for the new password to Gryffindor Tower. He could already feel the disapproving stare and the rant about what's right and wrong, about doing what was necessary not surrending to his whims the new Defence Professor is going to give him. If he finds out. And he sure will, but Harry was desperate. Desperate to get out of there as fast as he could. He will deal with Professor's wrath later, now he was just glad that he managed to escape without anyone noticing, especially the said Prefect, and had a chance of getting to the tower before of his housemates. 

He swiftly strode down the corridors and hidden hallways stopping only once to check his Map if by any chance any lion had beaten him up to the tower. Judging by the looks Ron and Hermione were throwing him he won't be able to run from them long, but he will do a lot to delay the confrontation for as long as he could. He couldn't bear to listen to more of their lies, excuses. After his clash with Hermione and the Weasleys on the platform, and now, after seeing Dumbledore smiling like everything was perfectly fine... He almost cracked. Nothing was ‘fine’. Leaving him to endure Dursleys abuse wasn't fine. Deliberately exposing him to mortal danger every year wasn't fine. Withholding information from him wasn't fine. Voldemort was growing in power and will come for them soon and all these years they did nothing to prepare him for what was coming. They chose to keep him in the dark, to lie to him and he knew that will cost them more lives. Just like it cost Sirius his. 

Harry shook his head and entered the empty Gryffindor tower. For the second time this day he had this gut wrenching feeling that this is not his home anymore. Smiling sadly Harry climbed to his dorm and fell onto his bed. He breathed in deeply as he stared at the red canopy above him. It was quiet and calm in the dorm and he savoured every moment of it because it won't last. When he heard first voices downstairs, he pulled his curtains close, put silencing charms and warded heavily. He didn’t want his roommates to disturb him. No questions, no looks. Just silence. 

Hearing his roommates enter the dorm he decided to get an early night and changed his robes into pyjamas with a flick of his wand. He recalled Snape's meditative exercises, tuning out his dormmates and his never resting, swirling thoughts. Almost like he was never alone, even in his own mind. Steadying his breath, he quickly fell into dreamless slumber. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Sinking Like a Stone - Maddison  
> 2) Antisocialist - Asking Alexandria  
> 3) Lose My Life - Papercut Massacre  
> 4) Demons - Our Last Night


	6. Pushing Away

**_Don't hold your breath. It's time to make a sound_**   
**_Don't kiss the boot that's keeping you down_**

**_1)_ **

Harry got up early and quickly showered. Before any of the other boys even woke up, he was gone, walking down for breakfast. Being first gave him the rare opportunity to be picky about his food. He could compose a balanced meal like Snape taught him instead of shovelling whichever was closer before Ron got to it. Vegetables, few sausages and rye bread. He even grabbed an apple and pear for later. 

He stayed long enough for McGonagall to walk into the Hall with a pile of schedules in her arms. Noticing him she approached his seat and fished out his schedule. 

“Mr. Potter, can I ask you if you are sure about your academic choices this year?” She asked examining his schedule before handing him the parchment. 

“You can, Professor.” He replied looking over his schedule, pleased that all the changes he asked for were included. “But I won’t answer. If I wasn't, I wouldn't be asking for those changes.” He stood up and gathered his bag. “Have a nice day, Professor.” 

“Potter, but... Ancient Runes?” She called out looking concerned. 

Harry flicked a stray bang from his brow and looked her dead in the eyes. 

“I know it's not an easy subject and I have a few years to make up, but believe me when I say that I have everything under control. I already did a mock O.W.L. exam for Professor Babbling. She was very pleased with my result. And I have an excellent tutor.” 

“Yes, I hope Miss Granger could help you with that.” His transfiguration Professor nodded eyeing him sharply. “Along with Arithmancy.” 

“I said I have a _tutor_ , not someone who would shove knowledge down my throat. So, that won’t be happening.” Harry told her coldly. “Good day, Professor.” And he walked away before she could stop him again. And before any other student walked into the Hall. 

First lesson this year he had were Charms, Advanced. He will only have to deal with and ignore Hermione because he knew that Ron couldn’t have possibly made the cut. Ron was pants at Charms and Transfiguration. Always some peace, Harry thought. 

Harry walked into Flitwick's classroom and occupied one of the front desks. He had almost an hour before the lesson begins and he wasn't going to waste that time. He began reading about the elemental charms they will be covering this semester. He found them fascinating. Probably it was the first time he found something in the actual school curriculum interesting. He could only wonder why he was so blind earlier. They were teaching him magic for all those years and he paid them less than minimum of required attention. How stupid he was. 

Stupid, stupid, so utterly stupid. Snape was right about him. He was an arrogant, self-righteous kid who almost threw out the window the biggest gift he ever had. 

Life was funny. Losing his godfather, the only father-like figure he knew his whole life, changed him, made him look past what everyone was thinking about him, expecting of him. Sure, the sole experience of loss almost broke him but somehow, he managed to get through on the other side stronger. More determined, focused on a task he was presumably destined for... 

Harry smirked bleakly. What a price for a wake-up call. For some twisted reasons he was glad. He had learned so much past two months, he was so much stronger. 

“I am finally living up to my legend...” He scoffed quietly and slumped on the desk, continuing to read before the rest of the class comes in. 

“Harry?” He felt a hand on his arm and held back a groan. Hermione, of course. 

He turned his head and glared at her. "Do not touch me." She took her hand quickly, as if he burned her. 

“Are you all right? You seem to be in the wrong class...” She said a little embarrassed. “This one is for Advanced Charms, Harry.” 

He smirked and tugged at the end of his ponytail but didn't lift his head from the desk. “You think I'm not capable of getting into this class?” 

“That's not...” She stammered. “What I meant is... Did Headmaster...?” 

Harry's eyes narrowed. “If you think that I don’t merit enough to get here, that Dumbledore had to assign me for those classes then you are not as smart as you think. I chose them. And I am perfectly capable of mastering this subject.” 

“But your O.W.L.s...” Now she was clearly confused. “Mr. Weasley...” 

“My O.W.L.s?” He looked at her incredulously. “What can you possibly know about my scores? We didn’t...” He paused and searched her face. Harry got his confirmation with the guilty look in her eyes. “Mr. Weasley showed them to you?” She flushed pink and looked away. “Seems I will be having a long talk with the Minister. And with Mr. Weasley.” He grinned cruelly. 

“Harry...” She let out an exasperated sigh but underneath she sounded scared and uncertain. 

“What? Am I wrong? Wrong and you didn’t snoop around my transcript?” He snarled. “That is confidential information until I wish to share it. And I don't. Not with you.” He snapped at her. “I never asked any of you to meddle in my life.” 

“Harry. Please...” She said in a small voice, a little frightened. Harry lift his head from his desk and measured her up disdainfully. 

“You asked or they told you?” 

She looked around the still empty classroom avoiding his eyes. 

“You asked or they told you?” Harry repeated putting more force into his words. 

“Last semester, after everything... I was concerned...” She stuttered looking at him with round eyes but Harry wouldn't have it. And he didn’t believe her. If she really was concerned, she would have written to him and asked. She probably never wrote to him on her own and was ordered to approach him now too. 

“You asked or they told you on their own?” His voice dropped lower, almost to a growl. _‘Oh gods... I am changing into Snape.’_ That was weirdly warming thought. 

“I asked...” It was barely above a whisper but Harry was used to whispers and heard her clearly. 

“Then whatever happens with Mr. Weasley's employment will be on your conscience, Granger.” He hissed and she winced. “I do not care what your intentions might have been. Not that I would believe anything you say now. Nor do I care what happens to the lot of you. You should have known better than to sniff around.” 

“But Harry, we just wanted...” His raised hand silenced her. 

“I. Do. Not. Care.” He accentuated each word. “I do not care what you wanted. I do not care what you want anymore. Don’t care about your intentions. You are fake. You betrayed my trust. You tried to control me. You meddled in my life when I didn't ask you to do so...” Harry stood up, his eyes darkening with anger. “I know everything. I know that Ron was pushed to befriend me. I know that, even if you befriended us on your own at first, you also joined their little game of ‘What Harry did today?’…” 

Hermione stepped back, scared as he loomed over her. He grew few inches over the summer. Regular meals and rest can work miracles. 

“Was it fun?” He asked moving closer trapping her between him and desk. “Hiding and conspiring? Spying on me?” He straightened himself and made a disgusted face. “You are no better than Death Eaters, they use the same tactic...” Harry whispered venomously. 

Hermione gasped, shocked, indignation flickered in her eyes. 

“Go away. Don't ever talk to me again. Don't ever ask anyone about me. I will know if you do and you don’t want to know what I will do then.” He moved to sit at his desk again. 

“But I will indulge you one last time.” He smirked and watched as she blinked at him scared and surprised. “Forget what you know about my O.W.L. scores. I've retaken them all.” 

She gaped at him and wanted to say something but he wasn't finished. 

“Try to snoop around those or anything else about me from now on and I won't hold back my... retaliation.” He blanched and briefly fiddled with a thought that he sounded like Malfoy Senior. But if that got through to Hermione then he didn't care. “Are we clear?” 

She nodded. Her eyes wide and scared, lip trembling. 

“Good. Pass it to Weasley, will you.” Harry said and sat slumping over the desktop again, ignoring her still standing there, frozen, just as he ignored other students coming in. 

**_When every step you take is do or die_**   
**_When every breath you take is filled with lies_**

**_2)_ **

“Blaise, there is nothing more to tell. I was just bored this summer.” Draco said crossing the hall. 

“Just bored?” Dark skinned boy inquired lifting one eyebrow. “You look like one of those Muggle fighters... What were they called...” He snapped his fingers few times while they approached the classroom. “Oh. Martial artists.” 

“Oh, pray tell, why you thought it was appropriate to compare me to something _Muggle_?” Draco sneered. 

Blaise shrugged and pushed the door open. “They are those fabled warriors. Strong, worshipped, deadly...” 

“And that should make it alright?” Draco sauntered inside class paying no mind to other students choosing their seats around them. 

“Perhaps not. But you look just like them.” His friend measured him up appraisingly. “Nothing but lean strong limbs clad in tight muscles...” 

“Blaise. Stop.” Draco warned feeling a shiver running down his spine. It terrified him that Blaise’s attention wasn’t... terrifying. 

Zabini smiled at him playfully. “I can’t help it. You've got yourself a killer body and I would love to...” His gaze slithered over his frame. 

“Can we not talk about this?” Draco groaned looking around concerned that someone might have overheard their conversation. He noticed a mop of black hair on the desk beside them, green eyes looking at them blankly. Draco smirked. “Seeing something you like, Potter?” He wiggled one pale eyebrow. 

Potter's lips upturned slightly. “Not really. I'm not fond of insufferable brats.” Draco scowled at him but said nothing as Flitwick entered the room. Potter sat up properly and faced front of the class. 

Draco kept throwing curious glances at the Gryffindor Golden Boy. He seemed to be bored with the lesson and cast every charm with ease that surprised Draco. He knew that Potter was proficient in Defence Against the Dark Arts but he never heard about his skill in anything else besides that. Apart from Quidditch. He was surprised to see him there, besting even Granger. Yet, there he was, alone. Barely uttering a word. 

And he seemed perfectly comfortable this way. Even the previously uncomfortable stares he just ignored with blank eyes and sour twitch of his mouth. 

Lesson soon ended, homework was already given out and Draco left the classroom, heading for Ancient Runes. Potter just disappeared. 

“First lesson of the year and he already gives us a roll of parchment long essay?” Blaise complained. 

“There are worse things than essays.” Draco dismissed him offhandedly, banishing thoughts about Potter from his mind. 

They walked to the next class in silence. He glanced at the teen walking beside him. After the Feast yesterday, Blaise approached him and apologized for the scene on the train, that he shouldn't have pushed but he was concerned about him, his friend. Draco didn't know what to make of it. Zabini never showed anything more than sluggish boredom and distance and Draco was often confused when it came to Blaise and his allegiances, but he figured that there is no harm in keeping him close for now. He provided at least an ounce of amusement and he could always use him. 

Silence set upon them as they walked through the halls approaching Ancient Runes classroom. He barely noticed other student clattering around them. Truth to be told he barely noticed anything around him which caused him to clash awkwardly with Blaise's back when his classmate stopped abruptly in the doorway. 

“What the fuck, Blaise?” Draco asked angrily barely keeping himself afoot. Dark-skinned teen only stepped slightly aside and gestured to the front of the class. His eyes followed to the direction of the outstretched arm where he saw now all too familiar messy black ponytail attached to the even more familiar figure lying flat on the bench gazing at the ceiling. 

“What...?” He barely whispered but in the almost empty class he could as well have shouted. “Are you lost, Potter?” Draco asked loudly approaching his usual desk. Just behind the one that Golden Boy was now occupying. “You know this is Ancient Runes class, right?” 

Potter sighed not even sparing them a glance. “Why is everyone asking me if I'm lost? I know exactly where I am.” 

“You know and yet we find you in an advanced class that you never took before? Surprising anyone have questions.” Draco sneered and Blaise let out a short laugh. Potter just sighed again. 

“I just...” Potter stuttered and sighed again his eyes never leaving the ceiling. “Not like it's any of your business and I certainly don’t owe you any explanation, Malfoy, but just for the sake of shutting you up I will tell you that I shuffled my curriculum this summer.” 

“Shuffled? Just like that? And got into Advanced class three years late?” Malfoy couldn’t hide his doubt. 

“Of course. The privilege of being The Chosen One.” Blaise chimed in, his curious eyes never leaving Potter. 

“More like a curse, Zabini.” The Golden Boy corrected his roommate with a disappointed look. “And I thought you were the intelligent one.” Potter sneered, turned his head slightly and threw a mocking look at Blaise. 

“If this is such a curse then why did you use it to change your subjects? And retake your O.W.L.’s I presume.” Draco asked surprising himself that he was honestly curious what buttons Potter pushed to make that happen. Potter just grinned widely. 

“See, Zabini? That was an intelligent question.” Potter sat up quickly and straightened himself. “But you will have to wait for your answer, the lesson is starting.” Just as if waiting for signal the doors opened and the rest of class walked into the classroom with a chatter, followed by Professor Babbling. 

Two Slytherins sat at their table and pulled their books. Draco was puzzled by Potter's presence in the class but as the lesson progressed his slight annoyance morphed into silent shock. Potter actually knew what they were talking about in class and correctly translated some of the more difficult runes. 

He could only stare in amazement at the back of Potter's head. 

When the bell rang, they gathered their things and moved to leave for lunch. 

“I changed my electives because it was time to do what I wanted to do." Potter winked stopping for a moment beside their desk. "Don't ask me tomorrow if I'm lost again, okay?” He smirked and walked out.

“What?!” Draco asked sharply, Potter's voice pulled him brutally from his thoughts. The Golden Boy just waved, not even turning his head to look at them. Draco stared at his back in astonishment. 

“Wow.” Zabini whistled softly joining his side. “Is it just me or he got more... mature?” 

Draco looked at him slightly put off. 

“Not to mention freakishly sexy.” His companion wiggled his eyebrows suggestively causing Draco to look at him like he grew a second head and scoff. 

“Don't be ridiculous. Potter is a guy if you didn't notice.” 

“Oh, I've noticed.” Blaise nodded enthusiastically, malicious hunger glinting in his eyes. “Those tight jeans and the close-fitting shirts? Delicious.” Dark skinned boy licked his lips and smiled at Draco. 

Draco just rolled his eyes pushing his friend out of the room and down to the Great Hall for lunch. 

_**We never wanted it to be this way** _   
_**They never listen to a word we say** _

**_3)_ **

Between constant pain throbbing in his arm and multiplying questions at Potter’s behaviour, Draco almost forgot that he was supposed to meet his Head of the House after dinner. Good thing he bumped into Severus in the dungeons when he was returning to the common room lost in his thoughts. 

Potion Master would be furious if he dared to miss their meeting. 

He followed the austere Professor, his godfather, into his office. Feigning confidence Draco walked in and lounged in one of the chairs standing in front of the desk of the Slytherin’s House Head. 

“You wanted to talk with me?” He asked trying to remain calm, while Severus closed the door and sat in the other chair. 

Draco felt black eyes follow his every move and minutes passed without any of them speaking. He was unwilling to break the silence and watched his immaculate nails. 

“How was your summer, Draco?” Quiet question startled Draco and he flinched scowling immediately. 

“Same as last year, Severus.” Blonde dismissed him. 

“I beg to differ.” 

“Severus, please.” Draco sighed scrubbing his eyes tiredly. “How else it could have gone? Father is in Azkaban. Mother is hiding herself in her rooms, not caring about anything. And our guests...” He shivered minutely. “Ever so gracious and wonderful but can be tiresome... It was a very busy summer.” Lie easily slipped off his tongue, even if he knew that Severus saw right through him. 

“They consider it a great honour to host... _Him_.” If Draco didn’t know his godfather that well, he would have missed the hint of contempt in his godfather’s voice. Draco looked at him perplexed. “Even more than to carry out his will.” 

Draco tightened his lips fighting his conflicted feelings. He heard that his godfather was spying on Dumbledore for the Dark Lord, playing his role of hated Professor, lover of the Dark Arts, untrusted ex-Death Eater. Was it all an act? Was he Dumbledore’s lap dog as his Aunt Bellatrix accused him to be? Was he playing both sides? Or maybe there was something more to this? 

Eyeing attentively the dark man he figured out that he won’t ever tell him. Severus seemed comfortable in his place, in the shadows, virtually alone, seek out only for his skill in potions and defence. Draco wondered if he was the only person that ever came to Severus to ask for advice, to play chess, to just sit in one room in silence. 

It felt lonely. 

“It isn’t easy...” Draco whispered after long minutes of silence. 

“Servitude never is, Draco.” His godfather replied with a blank face, then scrunched it. “I heard what Bella did.” 

“As you said, it is a great honour to carry out His will. And I was chosen for the greatest task so far.” He forced pride into his words.

“If you would need it, you can ask for my help. Always.” 

“So, you could steal my thunder?” Draco almost gagged saying those words but managed to keep straight face. “I don’t think so.” Mask was almost glued to his face. Superior, condescending, distant. Father trained him well. 

“I wouldn’t dare, Draco. It is yours to carry out, to gain all the glory. I can only offer you support and advice.” Black eyes held his, similar to endless tunnels. Something screamed at him from the dark depths but he couldn’t decipher what it was. He gulped heavily. 

“I will... I will think about it.” 

“Good.” With that they fell into comfortable silence, both lost deep in their thoughts. It was well into the night when Draco finally left Severus’ office and returned to Slytherin’s Common Room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Mess We've Made – Sin Shakes Sin  
> 2) This Is War - No Resolve  
> 3) Silence Is The Enemy - Papa Roach


	7. Article and Lesson Fiasco

**_You're no longer in my ear_ **   
**_Feeding me lies_ **   
**_I've got all the friends I need_ **   
**_They won't hear what you have to say_ **

**_1)_ **

Feeding his growing obsession, Draco closely observed Gryffindors in his year. After two days he was confident that the Golden Trio must have some bigger issues. It wasn’t ‘just a breather’ as Potter said. Weasley and Grander weren't shadowing Potter anywhere as they used to previous years. So far, their only two, extremely tentative encounters he witnessed were rather tense and hostile on Potter's part. After that, they kept their distance, only shooting him concerned looks filled with worry.

Their clearly unwelcomed obsession coupled with the glimpses of pain he could see in Potter’s eyes made him wonder. What possibly those two could do to make the loyal to death Potter turn his back on them? What happened? He knew that Potter's godfather died. Aunt Bellatrix was obscenely happy when she announced this grand news to his mother... But he expected that Potter will be surrounded by his friends. Coddled. Comforted. That he would at least still rely on them. Not push them away. 

On a few occasions Draco tried to listen on hushed conversations that Weasley and Granger held in front of classrooms they shared with him while looking not so discretely at Potter. But they have had placed secrecy spells around them and all he got was a distorted mumbled bullshit. 

Instead he watched Potter even more closely. He was holding his head high looking straight ahead. He was mostly alone but few times Draco spotted Griffindors following the Golden Boy. Potter must have spotted them too because he immediately disappeared from the corridors. He made it to his classes just before they started, after everyone else, without anyone noticing him. 

Draco also noticed that Potter became silent. Maybe it was because of his self-imposed isolation but he never uttered a word to his classmates. At least not outside class assignments which he never did with any fellow lions. If any of them approached him he just shot them an uninterested look and walked away. All but one. Only this failure of a wizard, Longbottom, would be allowed come near him. 

That was a lot of information for just two days of observation, Draco mused sitting at his place at Slytherin table. 

"Harry! What did you do!? What the hell did you do!?!?" Angry scream broke above student's chatter, successfully silencing the kids in the Hall. 

Harry sighed heavily and put down his notebook. He watched as Ron stormed into the Hall waving with a parchment in his hand. 

"What is the meaning of this!?" He stopped before Harry who looked at the crumpled paper. 

"Well..." Harry said in silence that fell over the Hall. "I think this is an announcement that there will be Gryffindor try-outs for a new Quidditch team members." He reached for the coffee pot and pored a generous amount into his cup. 

"Seeker try-outs, Harry! Seeker!" 

"I believe that yes, they will need a new seeker as I sent in my resignation last month." Harry said adding some milk and cardamom to his coffee. 

"You quit the team?! QUIT. THE. TEAM!?" Ron's voice reached this high-pitched shrill that only dogs and thestrals could hear. Harry noticed some of the students fought with themselves to stifle their giggles. 

"Last time I checked it wasn't forbidden to quit the team." Harry responded with a small smile. "Now, please leave, you are disturbing other students with all that screaming." 

"But how could you!? You love Quidditch!" Ron ignored him and just kept screaming at Harry. 

"Oh, I didn't know you are here to dictate what I love or like to do." Harry's voice went ice cold and Ron winced. 

Draco watched the one-sided screaming match with interest. Potter was calm while Weasel kept shouting at him. They made quite a spectacle. 

"But you do love flying!" The redhead shouted. 

"I can always fly in my spare time, Ronald." The cold look and formalities we surprising to Draco. He watched them closely as Potter shook his head. "I don't have to explain myself to you. I said it once on the platform, but I will repeat myself as it seems you have trouble with understanding English. You are not my friend anymore. Go away." 

Draco couldn't believe his ears. The Golden Trio broke up and Potter just admitted that to the whole school. Calling that shocking was an understatement. 

"Harry..." But he ignored his ex-friend and sipped his coffee in silence not looking at the red-headed teen anymore. Finally, he heard footsteps fading in the distance and the unnaturally silent Hall slowly erupted into turmoil and gossip. 

Harry sighed heavily. It wasn't even a week into the school year and he already caused a scene. He sighed again and shook his head. This is going to be an interesting year. 

**_You can sit back and judge me_ **   
**_Whatever makes you smile_ **   
**_You can point all your fingers_ **   
**_But I'm not on trial_ **

**_2)_ **

After five years, changing how people perceive you isn't easy. But he suspected it doesn't really matter. People changed their tune when talking about him every year. He was the Boy Who Lived, Slytherin Heir, killer, Black's target, attention seeking orphan, fourth champion Triwizard Tournament, menace, heart-breaking playboy, delusional teen... And many more. Whatever was flavour of the week. Sometimes it was hard to keep up. 

Harry wasn't surprised when, during Wednesday’s breakfast, the first page of Prophet screamed at him in bold words. 

“Harry Potter – a rebellious phase or change in loyalties?   
Is he the newest supporter of the Dark Lord?” 

Below was a picture of him, sitting at the Welcome Feast pushing away the insistent second year. His expression was dark and lips twisted in contempt. Just a few seconds taken out of context, without knowing the whole picture. Harry couldn't help but chuckle. 

“That should make things easier...” He said with sarcasm, sipping his coffee and reading whatever nonsense they concocted about him this time. Halfway through he looked up to the Main Table and spotted Snape reading the paper with almost amused twist to his lips. Other professors weren’t so entertained. McGonagall looked worried, Dumbledore pensive and Hagrid hurt. 

Even if the journalist was right about few things – he had secrets, he was sneaking around, about his dangerous adventures and, from wherever he got this, his weird connection to Voldemort – the whole thing was preposterous. How could he join individuals that had, and would, torture people for sport? Kill for fun? He watched them and wondered how they could believe, or even consider believing, in the things they wrote in this absurd article. How? All those years of surveillance and they didn’t pick up anything? Even Snape found this bullshit amusing and he... disliked him from the moment he saw him all those years ago. 

Seeing how they drank in each and every one of the words they printed, made him lose his appetite. He put down the paper and prepared some toasts to go. Walking out of Great Hall, he wondered who will be first to come and try to crucify him for the nonsensical article. Or how creative they will be with their comments. 

Considering the circumstances, walk seemed like a good idea. He had some time till class started and he wanted to avoid fellow students. He didn’t even reach the middle of the Entrance Hall when familiar female voice called him out. 

“Harry! Harry, wait!” Ginny. Perfect, he groaned inwardly. He really didn’t want to deal with her. Ever. 

Harry smirked darkly and acted like he didn’t hear her. Quickly matching through the castle, he walked onto school grounds. Soon, he heard patter of her shoes as she ran after him. Drawing strength from crisp mornings air filling his lungs, Harry strolled down the hill towards the lake. 

Obviously, the youngest Weasley wasn’t the one to give up that easily. She caught up to him just as he reached the shore. She jumped before him, stopping his walk and blocking his path. 

“Harry, I was calling you.” Ginny said panting, cheeks rosy from exertion. “You could have waited for me.” 

“Oh, I must have missed it.” He replied dryly and passed her on the narrow path. 

“You’re going to Hagrid? Can I join?” She followed him, springing gingerly on her feet. 

“No, and no.” 

“Then... Where?” Harry just rolled his eyes and kept silent, focusing on the road ahead him. Trust her to ever listen to him. 

After few minutes she tried again. 

“Next Hogsmeade weekend... We could go together. Visit the stores, the Honeydukes, drink butterbeer in Three Broomsticks, just... spend time together. Would you like to go?” She asked twisting her hands nervously. 

“No. Not interested.” He said not even looking at her. 

“Oh, Harry...” She chuckled using the same tone her mother used on the platform. Like he was one silly boy who didn’t know what was best for him. That grated on his nerves but he just clenched his jaws and ignored her. Then she started rambling about how they are great together, how she was sorry for her behaviour in the spring, how she will make it up to him... That is why she planned the perfect date for them and he has to go... 

Harry did his best to tune her out in hope that she will get a hint and leave him alone but her squeaky voice prickled his ears. He had enough. 

“Stop.” He said irritated, halting his steps and looked her in the eye for the first time since the end of last term. Ginny was smiling crookedly, almost triumphantly. It was making him more and more angry. “Listen to me. I am not interested. Not in going to Hogsmeade. Not in visiting Hagrid. Not in doing anything with you. Or with any of the Weasleys for that matter.” He smirked snidely. “I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want your company. I don’t even want to look at you. Even by accident. So, do yourself a favour and find someone else to torment with your affection.” Throwing that in her face, he turned on his heels and walked back to the castle, humming contently under his breath. 

This time, she didn’t follow him. 

**_Just keep up, soldier_ **   
**_It won't be easy_ **   
**_To stand upright while you suffer all this pain_ **   
**_To stand upright and to face it all again_ **

**_3)_ **

After Herbology Harry was walking up to the castle talking animatedly with Neville about the greenhouse in Longbottom’s residence. It held all the exotic plants Neville found in the last few months, few of which Harry sent him. He was amazed what Neville could do with the plants, how they thrived under his thumb. 

“...and you just need to remember to water them daily, half a cup is enough.” Neville said. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He patted his pockets and pulled a picture from one. “Look, that Strongylodon you sent me budded, just before I left for school.” 

Harry looked at the picture of a big turquoise flower and smiled. “You should have your own flower shop after school. The florist that I got it from told me that she won’t produce any flowers anymore, too much damage. Leafs and roots can be cultivated for potions but it won't bloom... Now look at that.” 

Neville blushed. “I’m not so sure about shop, but I have greenhouses...” 

“Hey, Harry!” They heard Seamus’ yell from behind, interrupting Neville. “Wanna explain yourself?” 

Harry sighed heavily and looked over his shoulder. “No.” He replied and walked further without stopping. 

“Oi!” Seamus yelled again and run up to him. Caught his arm and forced Harry to stop. Harry had to fight with himself to not hex the boy into oblivion. “Don’t ignore me.” 

“I have nothing to explain.” Harry said tiredly, already knowing what this was about and not liking it. Seamus confirmed his suspicions when he pulled today’s Prophet from his bag and showed him the first page. 

“I think you have. A lot. Finally snapped and changed sides?” 

“If you believe in even one word written in this rag then I have nothing to say to you. Now, excuse me, I was having a conversation.” Harry said coolly and turned to Neville, but Seamus pulled on his arm again. Their classmates started to gather around them. 

“Are you in such a hurry to kiss your new master’s feet?” Seamus asked with contempt. 

“Gods, you really believe what that half-wit of a journalist wrote about me?” He looked around and noticed Ron and Hermione in the back, staring silently at him not saying a word. “Haven’t you learned anything these past years? They will print anything as long as it has my name tied to it.” 

“Seamus is coming a little hard on you, Harry, I know. But Prophet has a point.” Lavender Brown stepped forward. “You are different this year. I, for example, am worried about you. You seem sad and aloof. I think we just all want to be sure you have your friends around to help you.” She bit her lip sheepishly and avoided Harry’s gaze. 

He looked all over trying to decipher where this came from. She never came across as his friend; they never really had a conversation. Now, she was claiming she is worried. Was Dumbledore recruiting more students to spy on him? 

“Thank you, Lavender, for your concern.” He spoke finally deciding he will check her later, just like he had Neville. “But it isn’t necessary.” Harry saw few Slytherins raising their eyebrows. “You heard my godfather died last spring. I just want to grieve in my own way, okay?” 

“O-Okay, Harry.” Lavender nodded and shuffled from foot to foot. 

“Do you have any more questions and doubts, Seamus?” Harry asked to shift the attention from him for even a moment. Seamus was frowning with irritation. 

“I’ll be watching you.” He said and pushed past Harry almost knocking Neville over. 

“Anyone else?” Harry asked tiredly. Only Dean and Parvati shook their heads while few of the Slytherins smirked. “Good. Have a nice day.” Harry said dryly and turned to Neville and together they headed back to castle. 

“Are you alright, Harry?” Neville whispered to him when they distanced a little from the rest of the class. Harry smiled sadly looking up at the castle. 

“I don’t know why I am always surprised they believe in what this rag is printing. It is no different from last year. The difference now is that I am supposedly on His side, supporting his deadly campaign.” Harry shook his head. “I wish they would just leave me alone.” 

“I know, Harry. I know.” Neville patted his shoulder and they continued their trek to castle in silence. 

**_I can't even trust myself_ **   
**_I'm burning in my skin_ **   
**_Standing at the gates of hell, but nobody will let me in_ **

**_4)_ **

Harry wasn't looking forward to his first lesson with Snape this year. Maybe because of the two months they've spent together. The man was austere and distant, as always, not much of a sharer, but his unfaltering determination to teach Harry how to survive was weirdly reassuring. Snape would scold and sneer but if he wasn't giving up or running away then Harry wouldn't either. 

And Snape seemed determined to teach Harry how to survive. 

He just hated that they would have to pretend that they still despised each other when the truth wasn't so simple right now. Snape finally acknowledged that Harry wasn't like his father, no matter how much alike they look. And Harry learnt to respect the strength of the man, his bravery and his knowledge, even if he didn’t respect or understand some of his choices. Like why he joined Death Eaters in the first place. Harry felt that Snape knew better than to trust Tom and his cronies but he did it anyway. It was a mystery to Harry what could have happened to Snape that he decided to join that bloodthirsty bunch. 

Harry sighed when he approached the end of the line of students waiting for class. He saw Hermione and Ron craning their necks looking at him and waving their hands so he would join them. He didn’t spare them a second glance as he rested himself against the wall. Starring impassively out the window was much more amusing. 

“Harry!” Came soft yell from behind him. He turned his head to meet Neville’s blue gaze. 

“Hi, Neville.” Harry smiled softly. He and Neville became closer over the summer. Maybe because the timid boy understood what losing someone close to you meant. Maybe because he wasn't pitying him for his pain. Maybe because he simply was there when Harry needed someone to... just be. Talking or not talking. Not trying to take advantage of him or forcefully pushing him out of his bad mood. And most importantly, he was there for Harry. Not because someone told him to be. 

Neville was the only one to be honest with him. One week into training with Snape, just after his emancipation, Harry decided to test Neville’s allegiances. He still felt guilty about it, about the few drops of Veritaserum in Neville’s coffee and honesty charms he learnt from Black’s library... But he had to be sure. Uncertainty was eating him alive. Now, Neville had his trust and friendship. He couldn’t help but smile and wonder how much his life changed because of one overheard conversation... And then he couldn’t help and imagine what would it look like if he didn’t. Certainly, he wouldn’t be training with Snape. Maybe he wouldn’t be so angry and hurt over it and just spend a few days at Grimmuald and then return to Dursleys as Dumbledore asked him to do? Afraid that Vernon would hit him again. Alone, wondering what happened to his best friends. Were they too busy to even write a short note asking how he is faring? In two months, Neville exchanged numerous letters with Harry and sent him pots of plants for potions or to just lighten him up while Ron and Hermione were silent. Nothing. They obediently didn't send a word. Only for his birthday they sent him presents and an invitation to the Burrow. Harry didn't respond. They tried again, but after third returned owl they stopped. It hurt but at least now he had proof of what he really meant to them. And for that, Harry was somewhat grateful. 

So, Neville and Snape were the ones keeping him sane and occupied the whole summer while he was working on his magic and learning as much as he possibly could. Even the Dark Arts. 

Harry smirked and shook his head at the prejudiced point of view he once held onto. Dark Arts, really... 

“Harry...?” Neville asked touching his arm lightly. Harry snapped his head to look at the sandy-haired boy and realized that he was asking him something but Harry totally drifted off. 

“Sorry, Neville. I got lost in my thoughts again.” Harry smiled at the boy. “Can you repeat please?” 

“No problem.” Sandy-haired boy smiled warmly. “I was just saying that it is a bummer that Snape is teaching us Defence now. And we have it with Slytherins... This will add a new layer to my nightmares.” Neville joked but his pale demeanour and trembling hands contradicted his assumed confidence. 

Harry laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. “Don’t worry. He will probably focus on me and try to undermine everything I know about the subject.” Neville smiled at him again and nodded. 

“I certainly don’t envy you in that matter.” He shook his head and looked around. "Erm... How are the things with Ron I Hermione...?” He asked softly, looking a little guilty. 

Harry sighed heavily. “They told you to ask me that?” Neville’s embarrassed squirming was telling it all. “Neville, you know what happened. I’ve told you everything. About what they were doing, about Ginny. You know that isn’t as easy as them simply not being there for me when I needed them. When I needed my friends and support. It’s because they weren’t true friends. I just can't afford to be left out in the cold again, with people I cannot trust.” Harry lowered his voice so the other kids in queue won’t overhear him. “If I am to kill Voldemort, Neville, I need people I can rely on in every situation, no matter what. And that person is you.” Harry smiled warmly at Neville and pulled him in a friendly hug. He shot a glance above Neville’s shoulder and smirked when caught Ron’s confused scowl. 

“They just should have known better than that, Neville." Harry said pulling apart. “After everything we’ve been through, they should have at least known that I don’t tolerate lies.” 

“Harry...” Neville started but was interrupted by Snape who opened the doors to the classroom. 

“Inside.” He snarled at them and his classmates hurried into the room. 

Harry looked around as he entered and smothered a smirk. Snape had already imposed his personality upon the room. It was gloomier than he ever saw it, with the curtains drawn over the windows and sparsely lit by candlelight. New pictures adorned the walls, many showing people in pain, grisly injured or with altered body parts...But Harry had to admit that it was a nice change from the last year and Ministry’s propaganda hanging off the walls. 

Nobody spoke a word as they settled down and looked around at the shadowy, gruesome pictures. 

“I have not asked you to take out your books.” Snape said, closed the door and walked to the front to face the class. Harry noticed that Hermione already had her copy out and now hastily dropped it into her bag. “I wish to speak to you and I want your undisturbed attention.” 

Black gaze roved over the student’s faces, lingering a little longer on Harry’s who faked a scowl and was rewarded with a hint of amusement in response. 

“You had five teachers in this subject so far. All of them had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion I am surprised that so many of you managed to scrape an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more if all of you keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which will be much more advanced.” 

Snape set off around the edge of the room. “The Dark Arts” his voice dropped an octave forcing everyone to crane their necks to hear him, “are many, varied, ever-changing and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time you sever one neck, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. This is an unfixed, mutating force. Indestructible.” 

Harry stared at his Professor. He heard that speech already, slightly changed, when he dipped into theories and facts that the Dark Arts were mostly misunderstood and wrongly used, not evil, but powerful and enticing how he was painting them now. Still, he admired the loving caress in Professor’s voice. 

“Your defences,” Professor said a little louder, “must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the Arts you seek to undo. You need to be ready to face the consequences of your actions.” Snape returned to the front and watched them from behind his desk. “This is an Advanced Course in Defence Against Dark Arts. I will not tolerate any insubordination or complaints about my methods.” Snape glared at the slightly scared and enchanted class with an unpleasant smirk on his face. “For this whole year, you will work in pairs I appoint.” Snape sneered at the Gryffindors terrified expressions. “Now, paired students are to gather at the front of the class. Nott and Longbottom. Parkinson and Granger. Zabini and Weasley...” Professor quickly paired the rest of the class and then paused for a moment and smirked. “And that leaves Malfoy and Potter.” 

Harry sighed. He shouldn’t have expected anything else. He gripped his wand and walked to Malfoy who stood close the window looking annoyed. 

“Non-verbal magic.” Snape waved his wand and tables, chairs and their bags composed together neatly at the back of the class and students dispersed through the classroom to have more space for the practical part of the lesson. “You are, I believe, complete novices in the use of non-verbal spells, but I hope I don’t have to point the advantage of non-verbal spells.” Snape sneered doubtfully and Hermione’s hand shot into air, which Snape completely ignored. “Using magic without shouting incantations can gain you an element of surprise in your spell-casting. Of course, the question is if you can concentrate and use enough mind power to master this ability, which I doubt.” 

Harry locked eyes with Snape and scowled. Professor's brow just twitched minutely, maybe in approval of Harry’s performance; he didn’t know. He only knew that he enjoyed this charade. 

“You will now silently, I mean without speaking , try to disarm your partner where they will try shielding it. Only disarming and shielding is allowed. Begin.” Snape turned to his desk. “And be silent!” 

Harry stood opposite to Malfoy and squared his shoulders. 

“You first.” Harry said quietly and prepared himself to cast his shield. He figured that maybe flashing his new knowledge and abilities wasn't the best idea. But he didn't care. He will show them his best. 

After strict training he received from Snape he found that wandless and non-verbal magic was fairly easy. And judging by the soft glow of Malfoy's wand he will soon get a hang of it too. 

Still he was a little surprised fifteen minutes later when his shield reflected a pretty nasty Rictusempra . 

He sighed and casted Finite Incantatem on Malfoy. 

“That took longer than I thought it will... Nice one, but Snape said disarming only, Malfoy.” He scolded the blonde who glared at him furiously gathering himself after the hex. 

Draco kneeled on the floor trying to regain his breath after the rebounded tickling curse. He was angry and glared at Potter who had the audacity to scold him. 

“Shut... up, Potter.” Draco wheezed and got up. This indifference painted on Potter's face was starting to get under his skin. “Show me what you've got.” He took a defensive stance and a second later his wand slipped from his grasp and flew into Potter's outstretched hand. He fiddled with it running his fingers on the ornamented handle examining it closely. 

“Wand, Potter.” Draco hissed. 

“Relax. I'm not going to do anything to it.” Potter shrugged and gave him his wand back. Malfoy was surprised that Potter didn't gloat, that not even a shadow of a smug smile crept upon his face. No, it was blank, almost. His eyes showed everything. But no smugness. Just sadness and grief. 

This was getting old. 

“My turn, Scarface.” Draco hissed and rolled up his sleeves. 

“You want me to block it or not?” Potter asked shrugging. 

“You can lock it with your face.” Draco sneered folding his arms on his chest. “Maybe it will look half decent after some spell work.” 

His eyes widened when Potter’s lips twitched in a slight smile. 

“You could use some corrections as well.” Potter remarked and then let out a small chuckle. 

“You think this is funny Scarface?” Draco asked him grimly. 

“Maybe.” Potter now smirked at him openly. “Or maybe I think this is disturbing that you never learn from your mistakes.” He was rolling his wand between his fingers. “You are just like your father... Did you know that he wanted to do the same thing to me last spring in the Ministry? From what I have heard, he was so greatly rewarded for his efforts. Tell me, how is Azkaban treating him...?” 

Draco could feel heat spreading on his cheeks and neck, his vision reddened as his rage flared in him, pushed his emotions aside... Searing flash of hatred almost blinded him. Next thing he knows, he was hurling a curse after curse at Potter’s head. 

First spell slid off his shields and chipped the wall behind him. Second shook them violently. He looked up and saw Malfoy with fury and hatred twisting his face in a fierce scowl, silently throwing curses at his head. Harry quickly reinforced his shields and responded with his own arsenal of spells. 

Adrenaline pumped through his veins, thrilling, exciting. He felt invigorated. His magic tingled under his skin seeking release. This was probably the first time Malfoy lost his composure completely. First time he was to witness it. 

Duel soon consummated almost every thought in Harry’s mind. It was a full one on one battle, all stops pulled. He was only half-aware of other students screaming in fear, jumping away from spells rebounding off the walls and their shields. Something tried to pierce the veil of adrenaline and thrilling haze of danger, a nagging voice at the back of his head. 

‘ I shouldn’t be doing that. Not here...’ 

‘Oh god... Snape is going the kill me...’ He realised he would be the one to face Professor’s wrath as those weak thoughts flew through his mind while he dodged, countered and nullified magic that Malfoy was throwing at him. 

He lost track of time. Was it merely minutes? An hour? He seemed suspended in a flickering net of glowing jets of light, vibrating with energy and power. His blood sang with joy. Every nerve electrified; every muscle taut. He felt high. 

Only to be taken down, crashing, by bellowing voice that shook the ceiling. 

“ENOUGH!” 

Draco felt his wand slip through his fingers in the middle of incantation. He looked around confused, suddenly feeling tired and saw similarly confused Potter lower his wand on the other side of the empty classroom. 

“You utter morons.” Came low, menacing voice and Draco turned around to face his godfather. And instinctively he took half a step back at the sight. He never saw him this angry. Never. And Draco knew that now, he was angry at him. He almost choked feeling his heart thump heavily with fear. 

“Potter!” 

Draco let out the air from his lungs feeling faint. Black, piercing eyes left his face and turned to Potter. “Fifty points from Gryffindor. And detention, Potter. Whole week, starting Monday, 6 PM sharp.” 

And Potter just nodded without a fuss. Eyes wide, jaws clenched. Draco couldn’t hold hysterical snort that escaped his throat. Severus momentarily pinned him to the floor with his stare. 

“Don’t laugh yet, Mr Malfoy.” His godfather said, voice calm and steady, but he knew now that he won’t get out of this unscathed. This voice promised pain. “Because you will be accompanying Mr Potter in detention.” 

Draco just closed his eyes, shaking slightly with fear. Severus so closely reminded him of the Dark Lord now that he couldn’t help to be terrified. Quiet “Yes, sir.” escaped his lips. 

“Now get out of here!” The man shouted at them and Draco all but ran from the room. His bag and wand left forgotten. 

Harry watched Malfoy’s fleeting back with something like pity tugging at his conscience. He knew all about how Professor Snape could terrify people but he supposed that this was a completely new situation for Slytherin’s reigning prince. A situation he wasn’t jealous of. 

He turned his eyes to the Professor, still fuming, taking in the damage they caused. 

“You scared the living shit out of him...” Harry said quietly. 

Heavy gaze fell on him, dark and searing, almost cutting into his flesh. 

“Shut up Potter and go before I tear you to shreds.” Snape growled at him, red sparks cascading from the two wands he was holding. 

“Yes, sir.” Harry replied in agreement. “But first, please give me Malfoy’s wand, sir. I will take it to him.” He added after a short pause and stretched out his hand, waiting. 

“What?” Man snapped at him. 

“You still have Malfoy’s wand, sir.” Harry explained politely and pointed to the elegant pale wand in Snape’s left hand. “He was so scared that he ran out without it, obviously.” At that Snape looked at the contents of his palms. The sight of fair wood in his hand caused his anger to crumble and leave him in long shaky breath. 

“Gods...” Snape whispered. 

“It’s okay.” Harry said calmly approaching his Professor. “He will be fine, I think. But I don’t expect him to come back soon. And without his wand...” Snape looked him in the eyes. Emotions close to pain and regret swam on the edge of the dark irises before Snape hid behind his Occlumency shields and pushed Malfoy’s wand into Harry’s hand. 

Harry smiled gently and turned away without a word. He only stopped to grab his and Malfoy’s bags on the way out. Before the door closed behind him, he heard “Thank you” so faint that he thought he had dreamt it. 

Draco didn’t run far. After climbing four flights of stairs and running through three corridors he stopped by window alcove, taking comfort in bright September sun. He was still shaking. Fear slowly dissipating and leaving the echoes of the anger he felt. 

He hugged himself tightly feeling more alone than he ever felt before. His father, locked in Azkaban, his obsession with madman’s philosophy slicing their family apart. His mother, too scared or too aloof to ever show any concern or raise any protests. And now his godfather... So deep in Dark Lords cause that he was reflecting the madman’s image. He had no one left. No one he could trust. No one to comfort him. No one who would just be there when he needed them. 

Wrapping his robes tightly around his waist he leaned heavily on the windowsill. 

He wanted to disappear. 

Outside classroom Harry pulled the Marauder Map and searched the castle for Malfoy’s dot. He sighed in relief when he found him two floors above. Chasing the blonde throughout the castle wasn’t his idea of a calm afternoon. Neither the idea of breaking into Slytherin’s Common Room. Again. 

He sneaked into the corridor where Malfoy took residence and looked at him glued to the windowsill, still trembling and lost in thoughts. Harry despised the pampered prince for so many years that he almost forgot what started this rivalry. And in the light of his recent discoveries it all seemed... stupid and childish. And most of all, false. He didn’t have definite proof, but he suspected he was pushed into disliking Slytherins and everything associated with them just because Ron said that this was the House Dark Wizards originate from. Such a bullshit. He knew that as many Death Eaters come from other Houses as from Slytherin. He himself was to be Slytherin for Merlin’s sake. But again, Ron’s words ringed in his ears and he begged the Hat to put him anywhere else. 

Shaking his head, he slowly approached the blonde Slytherin with whom he now felt weird companionship. “Malfoy?” Harry called out tentatively. Startled boy flinched and looked at him sharply. His eyes narrowing in anger. 

“Potter...” hiss escaped Malfoy’s clenched jaws, his fingers flexed searching for a wand and Harry was glad that, for now, he had none. 

“Easy, Malfoy. I am not looking into finishing that crazy duel we started.” Harry held out his palms, showing that he is wandless and came with no ill intentions. “Snape asked me to return this to you.” He slid the bag strap off his arm and held it out to the other teen. Malfoy blinked slowly surprised and confused but took the bag from Harry’s hand. 

“What...?” 

“That’s not all.” Harry continued calmly and pulled Malfoy’s wand from his robes, stunning the blonde boy speechless. “Try not to lose it, okay?” He pushed it into Slytherin’s hand and taking his chances turned to walk away. 

When he reached the end of the corridor, he breather deep with relief. He really expected Malfoy to throw a curse at his retreating back. Maybe this Malfoy wasn’t a lost cause. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) The Response - Cinema Sleep  
> 2) Nobody's Gonna Save My Soul – Sin Shakes Sin  
> 3) Rise – Blockheads  
> 4) Falling Apart – Papa Roach


	8. Checking In

“Harry! You’re alive!” Neville yelled when Harry entered the Gryffindor Common Room through the portrait hole. 

“Why would I be dead?” Harry smiled at his friend and sat with him near the window. “Oh, wait. I guess there are a few possible murder suspects in this very castle.” He grinned. 

“Not funny, Harry.” Neville swatted his arm. “Snape was really furious. I thought he was going to have a stroke...” Harry laughed. “How bad was it?” 

Harry let his laugh die out using this to discreetly cast few privacy spells. “I think he was too angry to make the punishment really serious.” He paused and Neville sighed with relief. “I’ve got a week long detention with him starting Monday and lost fifty points.” 

“Harry...” 

He shook his head with a shrug of shoulders. “It wouldn’t be that bad if Malfoy wasn’t there... He got the detention too.” He sighed at Neville’s puzzled expression. “You know that I started training with someone during the summer? After my emancipation?” He asked covering his mouth with his palm and Neville nodded. Harry didn’t put past Hermione, who was watching them from the other side of the room, to learn lip-reading. Or find a spell for it. “Well, it is Snape. He is... not what I thought him to be. Actually, he is a really decent man. When he wants to be. He seems to be the only one to care if I live through this war...” 

“You know that is not true, Harry!” Neville exclaimed passionately. “I care. And I think that Lavender and Dean care too. They were really worried about you after Snape chased us out of his class. They would like to know you are fine and have friends who support you...” Harry looked around seeing Dean and Lavender watching him with worried expressions, he smiled at them softly and turned back to Neville. 

“I don’t know if I will tell them anything. I don’t trust easily, you know that... Dumbledore and the others really did a number on me.” 

“That they did.” Harry was surprised to see the change on the sandy-haired teen’s face. To see anger and hatred and betrayal twisting features of this usually timid boy was shocking. He looked exactly like Harry felt most of the time. Harry placed his hand on Neville’s arm calming him. 

“I will take care of him, of the whole Order actually.” They looked at each other for a moment before Harry smiled minutely. “You really think Lavender and Dean are trustworthy?” Harry asked to steer the conversation away from the Headmaster and watched as Neville scrunched his face in thought before nodding. “Ok, I will talk with them. I am afraid Dumbledore may employ other students to get to me. I would be stupid to not try to get them on my side or at least warn them...” Harry gazed out the window and Neville smiled at him warmly. Soon Harry shook his head and reached for his bag and pulled his books. “So, how about we work on those Herbology essays and worry about everything later, hm?” 

**_Tell me when it's over_**   
**_Wake me when I'm sober_**   
**_The scars too hard to hide_**   
**_I should've known better_**

  
**_1)_**

Morning came too early for Draco. He tossed and turned in his bed trying to figure out what Potter was thinking, returning his wand like that, after he just attacked him. Like his outburst in Severus’ class wasn’t a big deal. After everything, how Potter could be... almost friendly. To think of it, Potter hadn’t said a one cross word to him since the beginning of the term. Even when he tried and tried to offend him, to rile him up, he just smirked and replied calmly. This was making his thoughts spin. And Severus... Oh gods, Severus. He felt stupid now that he wanted to trust the man and tell him what was eating Draco inside. 

Scared, angry and confused Draco shifted through his classes paying minimum next to no attention to what was happening around him. 

“Are you alright, Draco?” He heard Blaise ask him and felt a reassuring touch on his elbow. He looked in the deep brown eyes of his last companion and smiled sadly. 

“Of course, Blaise.” Draco lied smoothly, forcefully shaking himself out of his stupor. “Just thinking.” 

“Is this about the detention you got with Professor Snape? It made quite the commotion yesterday in the Common Room.” Draco looked at his classmate thinking that he is too bright for his own good. Too perceptive. He sighed. 

“Yeah.” Draco admitted giving up. 

“He is your godfather and the Head of our House. I wouldn’t worry too much.” Blaise tried to comfort him but Draco wasn’t worried about the detention and the job Severus will assign them. He was afraid of the man himself. He gripped his arm where the Mark was hidden under the fabric of his robes and bandages. If his own blood relative could subject him to that much suffering, what would Severus do? 

“Let’s go get lunch.” Draco said wishing for things to be normal once again. Blaise just squeezed his elbow lightly and nodded. Soon they walked out of the Professor Binns' class and steered in the direction of the Great Hall. 

Friday’s lunch break welcomed Harry with Hedwig landing in front of him and almost knocking over his teacup. 

“Hello, girl.” Harry petted her head gave her a piece of his chicken. “What do you have for me?” 

Hedwig hooted softly a nibbled on his finger when he untied the letter from her leg. Harry sighed when he saw Hogwarts seal on the small roll of parchment. Hedwig hooted again as if she was apologizing. 

“Oh, it’s not your fault, girl.” Harry told her and scratched her head gently. “This would have happened sooner or later.” He looked at the small scroll for a minute before breaking the seal. Harry unrolled the letter wishing that Nevile was here, instead of helping Professor Sprout. His friend always seemed to know what to say to calm Harry down. 

_Dear Harry,_

_Please meet me in my office today, for an afternoon tea. 6 PM should be ideal for such_ _an_ _appointment._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus_ _Dumbledore_

Rubbing his face tiredly he pulled out a piece of clean parchment from his bag. He quickly scribbled a note and gave it to Hedwig. 

“Please pass it to Pai.” He told her quietly. Sad hoot was stifled by a note she held in her beak. “I know you want to do this, girl, but you know why you can’t.” Hedwig hooted again with compliance and lift off gently brushing his head with her wing. He watched her leave through the window near the enchanted ceiling. 

This was wearing him down. His friends betrayal, Dumbledore’s constant control of every aspect of his life, Voldemort’s obsession with killing him... Everyone treating him like he was their property, personal hero on their beck and call. It was suffocating him. Being constantly watched, his life on display, everyone thought they had the right to tell him what to do. Two months ago, he told them all to go to hell and he never felt better. No more pretending that he was alright, no more hiding his scars from his friends, no more worrying whether they found out his deepest darkest secrets... And he was right to be cautious, even if he hid his secrets for all the wrong reasons. 

Harry looked around the Hall. Kids laughing, gossiping, just hanging around. He wondered how long he would behave like them if he didn’t overhear Mrs. Weasley talking about him with Dumbledore. What were they telling him? What he said, how he slept, what he had in his trunk...? Mrs Weasley said they were trying to mould him, so he wouldn’t take it past them to do all that... Harry shook his head, he was better off. The mere notion of what they were doing behind his back was making his blood boil. 

“Deep breaths, Harry. Deep breaths...” He whispered to himself closing his eyes. Sun falling from the window warmed his face, noise slowly faded into the background. 

**_I don't know why you came along_**   
**_At such a perfect time_**   
**_But if I let you hang around_**   
**_I'm bound to lose my mind_**

**_2)_ **

Chairs scraping on the flagstone announced the end of first week of the new term louder than any bell could. He wished that he could skip on the meeting with Dumbledore, on the weekend altogether, just jump to Monday, to more lessons and homework, to his detention conveniently scheduled for every evening allowing him to keep himself busy and ignore everyone. But he couldn’t. If he didn’t go to Dumbledore, the old coot would come to him. And Harry wanted to avoid that. 

He stood up and slowly gathered his belongings. This day was supposed to go differently. School, meals and then detention with Snape. No unwanted meetings with ancient manipulative wizards. Harry sighed and walked slowly to the Great Hall. He didn’t have much time to eat before his _tea_ with Headmaster and he wasn’t going to be late. Emancipation or not, he was still a student here and Dumbledore had the last word. If not for Professor, Harry would have withdrawn from school. But he couldn’t just give up half way and leave. 

All Harry could think about was how much he didn’t want to be at Hogwarts for the next two years. This place stopped being his home, his respite from oppression he suffered at Dursleys. It became a place of schemes and manipulations. And he was wasting his time entangled in the web of Headmasters lies and half-truths... But leaving now meant to give up and that wasn’t an option. He wasn’t leaving before he gets what they owe him. They robbed him. Stripped of any kind of power, took his liberties away, not even allowed him to live his life as proper human being. Used as a tool in their climb for power. What else they had in store for him? Why they felt the need to stage his life so completely? Were they afraid that he would join Voldemort? Not like there was a chance for that. Voldemort wanted nothing more than to kill him. And Harry would stand against Voldemort anyway. Simply because he was fighting for survival and the world Voldemort was trying to build was wrong. He still wanted to fight. They didn’t have to enslave him... 

It was a story of his life. Everything spiralling out of control. Dangers lurking around every corner and every shadow hiding new adversaries. Answers only invoking more questions. He was full of questions. Most obvious were constantly screaming in his mind. Why? What for? He didn’t care about the details. ‘How’ wasn’t the question he wanted to hear the answer to. He wasn’t interested in understanding them and their motivations. If he had to be honest with himself, nothing of it really mattered. This war will end one way or another and then they are welcome to fight for bits and scrapes that are left. He just wanted out. Be far away. Somewhere where his name wouldn’t mean anything. Where his scar wouldn’t be recognized or at least revered. Somewhere where he could be just Harry and where he could find out what it meant. 

What it meant to just be himself. 

Harry still had a role to play. At least now he knew he was playing. That he was being groomed and conditioned to do his part. Professor might have freed him from their direct influence but he would never be truly free as long Voldemort was out there, plotting to kill him and everything he held dear. Harry sighed and dissected his feelings. He had to admit that now he felt like a puppet freed from its puppeteer. Liberated, but without any plan or direction. Freedom felt a little bit odd. His head felt too tight, his skin too loose, everyone around him looked fake and shallow. Saying that he never had any choice in matters of his life was an understatement. He hadn’t had a voice in the house he grew up in, used and worked till his hands bled. When Hagrid came to invite him to Hogwarts, Harry saw him as his saviour. He was offered a completely new life, new world of his own, a promise for better future. And he clutched to it like a life raft. To Hogwart's promise of safety and friends. Meant home. He couldn't have been more wrong. His life was staged, planned and manipulated. A lie. Potions influenced all his relations with people, his decisions about affiliations and sympathies. All bonds and reactions carefully balanced and crafted by the person he thought he could trust. Harry suspected that first dosages came with the cake Hagrid brought him. Did he know? He didn’t want any of this. To Voldemort to kill his parents. To be branded with this hideous, annoying scar. To be treated like either hero, enemy or a tool by everyone, for something he didn’t even do personally. For something his mother did. For her sacrifice... 

Mulling it over and over again, by the time he reached the Entrance Hall, he was in no mood to eat. Not with everyone staring at him. He saw Ginny lingering in the doorway, obviously searching the crowd and waiting for someone, only made him irritated so he decided that going to the kitchen would be better. He slithered into the shadowed corner and pulled his Cloak from his bag and disappeared from sight. 

Of course, eating in the kitchens couldn’t be called an entirely peaceful experience, especially for him, but at least house elves weren’t trying to coerce him into anything else than taking the food they prepared. Not that he would let anyone beside Kreacher around his food. Small talk he had with Dobby while eating left him smiling and content. Unlike Harry this year, the small elf was flourishing under the Hogwarts protection, he even found love. 

Promising he will come back soon to meet Dobby’s future wife, Harry left the happily chattering elves and aimed for Headmasters office. His good humour was quickly dissipating. He slowly strolled through the dungeons ignoring surprised and spiteful looks some of the students were throwing at him. He just shook his head. Their hostility wasn’t his problem. 

_‘Better just_ _get this over with as quickly as possible_ _.’_ he thought but didn’t pick up his leisurely pace. It was a really nice afternoon. Sunny and warm. But not too warm. Perfect for outdoor training, for reading under a tree. Probably one of the last few warm afternoons this year and he was going to waste it trying to get some lying, meddling, old fool off his back. He sighed tiredly. 

Many minutes and sighs later Harry approached the stone gargoyle guarding the Headmasters office. He stared at the hard marble features and again toyed with the idea of turning back. Shaking his head and squaring his shoulders Harry looked the statue dead in the eyes. 

“Harry Potter for Headmaster Dumbledore. I was invited for tea.” He stated impassively. Gargoyle twitched and jumped aside so Harry could step on the rotating stairs. 

This trip to the round office he deemed to be the longest so far. Even after his dream-vision with Mr Weasley and Nagini, when he had no idea what happened, when he was scared for his sanity and for someone’s life, time wasn’t this cruel. Like he was suspended in a bubble, the only one moving and breathing person on the planet. He had more time than he ever wanted to think about all the lies he ever heard in the room he was about to walk into. About all the truths he should but never have heard. But truth wasn’t attainable there. Not from Headmaster. Now he knew about all the things he never told him and he should have. It was upsetting him dearly. 

Bitter betrayal and loss filled him as he stepped onto the platform before dark wooden door. He knocked without hesitation. 

“Come in, Harry.” Headmaster’s voice ringed in his ears and he again fought the urge to turn back and leave. 

The door opened before he reached for the handle. _'Cheap tricks.’_ Harry smirked and walked into the office looking around. He noticed that more than a few items he broke last spring were missing from the shelves and coffee tables. His smirk widened, the notion of permanently destroying something that belonged to Dumbledore was weirdly satisfying. 

“Come, Harry, and sit please.” Dumbledore said from his chair behind the wide desk. 

“I’d rather stand. Can't stay for long. I have a detention soon.” Harry replied offhandedly looking somewhere above Headmaster’s left ear but not in his eyes. 

“Yes, I was made aware of your situation with young Mr. Malfoy. Professor Snape was notified that you will be late today.” Dumbledore said looking at Harry sadly. 

“Detention for duelling I will have next week, Headmaster.” Harry informed him politely. “And with all due respect, sir. Slips and excuses don't help with my _situation_ with Snape.” Harry held up his hand to stop Dumbledore from correcting him. “He tormented me for five years already and you didn’t bat an eye. Any excuse you make for me, any interference, only makes it worse. I have to suffer for it. So, please, can we get to the point before I’m late?” 

Dumbledore watched him, scrutinizing, for a long moment before speaking again. “Why are you so angry, Harry?” 

Harry's jaw slacked from sheer shock that he had the gall to ask that. Why? _Why?_ Harry huffed and then chuckled morosely. 

“You can’t be seriously asking that...” He murmured and stared at the old man before him. Minutes passed in silence while they stared at each other and Harry just stood there defiantly. ‘ _Snape_ _will kick my ass for being late... Again_ _.’_ He thought shifting his gaze to look straight into those blue eyes, glad they weren’t twinkling now. That would really make him angry and he would do something stupid. He felt the feather touch of Dumbledore's mind against his. A probe to gauge his mood. Harry didn't block it this time. He let the anger, the betrayal, swim to the surface of his mind and cover up everything else. It was so easy. He did feel betrayed by Dumbledore’s request to return to Dursleys. By him keeping information away from Harry. He felt betrayed by his 'friends' and Harry didn't let out what he felt exactly to be betrayed by. Let him think that it was by their silence this summer. Because most of all, Harry was angry. And that feeling almost drowned him. 

“I don’t have to explain myself to you. I don’t even have to talk to you.” Harry said dryly, holding in his snarl. “You lied to me. You almost got me killed by putting me with Dursleys. Sirius... Sirius died because you didn’t tell me what I needed to know, when I needed to know!” Harry exasperated, slowing when he felt Dumbledore retreat from his mind. “And now you ask why I am so angry? Did dementia finally get to you? Or is it that curse?” Harry scoffed and broke the eye contact. 

“So, you know about the curse.” Dumbledore stated calmly, like Harry didn’t just insult him. 

“Hard to miss.” Harry said feeling the heavy stench of the dark curse eating away Dumbledore’s life. 

“I suppose that’s true.” Dumbledore looked at his blackened hand before looking at him. “Sirius left you everything he had in his Will. Did that include a pensieve, Harry?” 

Harry squinted his eyes suspiciously. “Yes.” Not that he was using it. The pensieve Sirius left him with the house belonged to his parents, and they weren’t fond of anyone that was not blood related. Harry had to acquire his own. 

“Very well. I will send you some items I’ve collected over the years and I would appreciate if you could watch them and consider what I have to offer carefully.” Headmaster told him rubbing his cursed hand with his left. The stench of the vile magic intensified, almost suffocating. 

“I will think about it.” Harry uttered feeling slightly dizzy, hoping his acquiescence will speed things up before he vomits. 

“Glad to hear that.” The old wizard sighed. “You can go then.” 

Harry nodded and hurried to the door. When he was about to cross the threshold, Dumbledore called him again. 

“Harry, please talk with Mr Weasley and Miss Granger. They are concerned about your wellbeing.” 

“I highly doubt that.” Harry shook his head, pony tail swaying, and didn’t even turn to look at the man. “Good evening, sir.” 

He walked out slamming the door behind him. 

**_I traded my name to indulge a snake_ **

_**3)** _

“I am surprised to see you here on time, Mr Potter.” Severus said when Potter sneaked into his office a few minutes before the bell tower chimed seven. 

Boy smiled lazily throwing his bag under the armchair in front of Severus’ desk. “Cut my previous appointment short. Wasn’t worth being late.” 

“Please tell me all about it.” Potion Master sneered and waved his wand putting up wards at the door. He stood up and slowly approached Potter and stared into his eyes. Silent _Legilimens_ brought him even closer, his mind brushing against Potter’s defences, but the boy wasn’t faltering. Severus towered over him trying to sneak past an invisible wall in Potter’s mind. He could almost see the boy's memories, feelings and thoughts, swirling like shadows on the other side but he couldn’t break through or make out anything from their complicated dance. After a few minutes of this staring contest he lifted the spell. 

“Thick headed as always, Mr Potter.” Severus drawled secretly feeling proud. And jealous. Just two months and he was almost as good at Occluding as Severus himself. 

Young man in front of him snorted. “Nice way to tell someone they did well, Professor.” Potter rolled up his sleeves and loosened his tie. “So, today we duel, brew or practice Occlumency?” 

“Neither. I don’t think I have much left to teach you in Occlumency. You _can_ learn when you want to.” Severus said honestly and walked to his desk pointing to the chair he prepared for Potter. “We might work on your Legillimency later in the year and we surely will move to some not well-digested by most mind practices soon, but today we will talk. Set the rules for this year.” He continued tuning into his teacher mode. 

“Rules?” Potter asked him, settling in. “I thought we spoke about them just last week.” 

Severus only cocked his eyebrow and the boy blushed slightly and looked away. 

“We did. But after seeing you duel with young Mr Malfoy, I’m under the impression you don’t remember much from our conversation.” He felt a small pang of satisfaction when Potter’s face twitched with shame. 

“He just started throwing hexes and curses at me, sir.” Potter sighed. “Instincts kicked in...” 

Severus folded his hands on the armrests and watched Potter closely. “When having a good instincts and reflexes is important, you should pay more attention to your surroundings, Potter. My classroom is not a place for you two to work out your childhood grudges.” 

“Then why did you pair me up with him?” Potter complained. 

“Potter, think for a moment instead of whining.” Severus snarled slowly losing his patience. He didn’t feel the urge to scold the boy, not anymore really, but the whiny attitude was still grating his nerves. “Believe it or not, among all others in your class, he is the closest to you in skill. He has the knowledge, swiftness and, what is more important, some proper training. So, stop complaining and use it. Use him. Treat it as a challenge not a threat. Not a punishment. Just a tool. Tool for you to learn how you can work within your limitations and overpower your opponents without letting them know the full extent of your power.” 

“Alright, alright.” Potter gave up and then grinned. “So, I’m powerful, eh?” 

“Oh, shut it, you brat.” Severus snarled, simultaneously fighting the urge to smile. Their amiability grew exponentially over the last month of their interactions and it was constantly surprising him. Considering all their rocky past he anticipated more aversion and hostility in Potter’s behaviour but the teen seemed to be truly devoted to his training. And Severus found boy’s company to be bearable, sometimes even more than that. Adding to the pile the fact that Potter really worked hard, as he promised he would, and gone were all the traits he previously perceived as inherited from his father, starting with his misguided conception of boy’s upbringing, Severus felt like he was looking at completely different person. A person he might have even started to like... 

With the right incentive and more training Potter will become an exceptionally powerful wizard. He was already surprising Severus with his well thought comments and constantly expanding knowledge. His thirst for answers never seemed to cease and the ease and grace with which he performed even the toughest spells was remarkable... But there was always an issue of his Gryffindor conditioning that he never seemed to fully get rid of. The urge to surge brashly towards danger and act without considering his surroundings or consequences still influenced the boy’s life. Yesterday's event was a glaring evidence of that. 

“If you would be so inclined and tell me what started all that hostility between you and Mr Malfoy?” Severus asked when he emerged from his musings about Potter’s capabilities. “Knowing both of you separately, one might have thought that you two could actually get along pretty well.” 

As his question rewarded him with a thoughtful furrow on Potter’s face, the following comment only caused his expression to shift into incredulousness. When he realised that there was no mocking, only curiosity, in Severus’ inquiries, Potter relaxed and ran his fingers through is fringe. 

“I suppose I owe you that origin story for ruining your classroom.” Potter smiled crookedly and sighed. “Well... You saw how was my life at the Dursley’s...” He shook his head and took a deep breath, pain and anger flickering in his emerald eyes. “It was almost as bad when I was younger. The beatings. They used to beat me for everything. For overcooking some veggies. For not cleaning fast enough. For just standing there awaiting orders...” Potter's fingers clenched and dug into armrests but he quickly composed himself. “Usually they refused to treat any of my injuries and locked me in the cupboard and let me lick my wounds. Good thing that my magic was healing me nicely. And quickly. There was only one time when Vernon’s treatment had put me in the hospital, I was seven.” Potter snorted hugging himself tightly. “Before I got into primary school, not only my uncle was treating me like his training bag. My cousin started this new game and called it Harry Hunting. He would chase me with his friends and beat me up if they caught me. Or if I managed to run and hide, they would go home and lock me out. I’ve spent many nights sleeping in the garden shed...” The boy tugged on hair staring at the inkwell on Severus’ desk like it held all the answers. Severus listened intently, waiting for the story to unravel. “I never had anyone to whom I could go and talk about those things. Teachers at school believed Dursleys stories that I am a troublemaker and Dudley scared off any kid that came too close to me. I was alone. So, the point is that Ron was the first kid I’ve ever met that treated me with something akin to kindness. Like I was normal, not a freak or delinquent.” Potter shrugged. “Of course, at first, he was fascinated by my scar, by my name... Which was a little off-putting, but everything here was new and shiny and I felt so out of place that I didn’t pay much attention to this little detail, thinking it would pass. And for Ron it did. He got to know me and he didn’t run away; he wasn’t scared nor disgusted. He didn’t act like I was a criminal, born of two dirty smudges on society, which my relatives loved to say, he was just friendly. Even if a little too pushy.” Potter’s gaze wandered on the gruesome pictures and paintings hanging on the walls but Severus suspected that he didn’t really saw them. “I just gained a friend. Or so I thought. My first friend... Then Malfoy came to our compartment on the train and insulted him. Just because his family is poor. That, after Dudley’s _pep talks_ _,_ didn’t lie well with me. He reminded me of that wretched whale of a bully...” He tugged at his ponytail once more and tilted his head slightly. “When he left, Ron told me all those bad things about Malfoys, about Slytherin House, Dark Wizards...” His voice quieted down and he sat there starring absently into space. 

“And you were just scared, lonely and naïve eleven-year-old boy.” Severus added quietly, Potter’s gaze snapping up to him. “Easily influenced and manipulated.” 

Black-haired boy nodded slowly, eyes open wide, filled with hurt. 

“I think it was all manufactured. It wasn’t a coincidence that I’ve met Weasleys that first day on the platform or that Ron didn’t find any, _any_ other compartment on the train. He could have sat with his brothers. There are so many kids coming here each year and that day I’ve met only one family?” Potter huffed. “And not just any family but the only one with kids my age whose parents belong to the Order? Curious, don’t you think?” 

Severus just sighed, suddenly feeling sad and guilty about all the things he refused to acknowledge that was being done to this boy. “Potter, I am a spy. I need to know and notice things, details, in order to survive.” He breathed in deeply. “But to my greatest shame I haven't had the faintest idea that the kids were on it too. I thought that at least they were genuine towards you.” His voice was barely audible but hurt expression on Potter’s face told him he heard him. Spy cleared his throat. “For what is worth, I am deeply sorry they played you this way. That I played you. Headmaster...” Severus avoided boy’s intense green stare. “He thought it would be best for all if we help steer you towards the Light. Show you in stark contrast how Light side is warm and good. Means family, comfort, security. That it’s nothing like the Dark Lord’s. Vile, cold and cruel... We all had our roles to assume.” 

Potter gawked at him; his eyes glued to Severus’ face. “Roles?” He finally asked, his voice rasp and shocked. “Are you telling me that all your hatred was _feigned?_ Just like their friendship?” 

“Well...” Severus had a shred of decency left in him to feel slightly ashamed. “Not _all_ of it. I had built a concept of how your life had been, which I found on the other scale of what is the truth during our Occlumency lessons last year. And when I saw you that first day, assuming the role of resentful Professor was easier than I thought. You looked so much like your father, especially from afar, that I started to treat you like I would treat him. And I loathed that man with all my heart.” 

Potter groaned. “Don’t remind me. Until...” boy swallowed hardly. “Until last year I was proud of my father. All the stories I’ve heard, all the pictures, he seemed like an amazing person. Brave, honest and astute. I always thought that you were lying about him because you were jealous...” Potter squirmed blushing minutely. “But after all that hassle with your...” he looked up to Severus slightly guilty, “your pensieve... I was so angry at him. I still am. At Sirius and Remus too. I wanted to hurt them, for lying, for torturing you...” There was something in the air between them that made Severus speechless. “I don’t know the whole story and I doubt I will ever know what had happen between you and my father and his friends. Why they hated you so much...” Potter drew another deep breath and straightened his back. “What they did to you was inexcusable. You don’t treat another human being like how they treated you. Not even an enemy. I apologize for my family and how they tormented you.” 

“Potter...” Severus tried to say something, but the boy wasn’t finished. 

“You don’t have to say anything. Just know that... that I understand and I am sorry.” He paused awkwardly and twisted his hands on his lap. “I understand why it was so easy for you to hate me... I am a carbon copy of my dad.” 

“Potter...” He growled but not with anger. He was... pleased. Strangely pleased that Potter was mature enough to finally see through the perfect image of his father that others had painted for him. That there was more to his family than bright, happy pictures he saw. And that insight proved he was a better man that his father ever was. Severus decided to be honest. “True, I disliked you at first. With your looks it was easy to transfer my feelings towards your father on you.” Severus spoke softly staring at the boy who was unwilling to meet his gaze. “It made following the task Dumbledore assigned to me that much easier. Not easy, mind, easier. And when you started showing traits, so James-like traits, stubborn, impulsive, acted like rules never applied to you... And with Dumbledore wanting me to push you, antagonize you, it only played to his plan...” He chuckled unamused. “As ex-Death Eater, pawn of the monster who made you an orphan and with my bad temperament, I fit the role to a T. Added a little hostility to the mix and there you have a brash young Gryffindor, poster boy for the Light.” Severus said sourly, only half-aware that Potter shifted his stare and now was watching him with shocked expression. 

“I didn’t see it that way then.” Severus admitted felling guilty under that gaze. “You came into this school, acting every bit like a spoiled child I thought you had to be, looking just like James,” he spat out the name, “and I was so blinded by what was on the surface that I never stopped to think. Never asked myself why, if you were a pampered little prince, you wore those ratted hand-me-downs? Why you were smaller than other boys your age? Why you looked so skinny and malnourished? I took it all as an act. A ruse to garner even more attention.” He snorted inelegantly. “Nothing could change my mind. Not even when I saw those scars on your back... I never asked myself how could you acquire them...” 

“You... You saw them?” Potter asked him, his voice stripped of the emotion. 

Severus nodded. “Last year, there was this one weekend before Christmas when you were lying with high fever in the Infirmary after one of more insistent attacks on you mind... I came by to deliver the potions Poppy asked me to make. You were trashing in your sleep and she called me to help, worried you will hurt yourself. I caught a glimpse.” He shook his head still angry at himself how could he had missed all the signs. “It was just a small patch of the skin but... I presumed that Dark Lord did that during the finale of the Tournament... But they were too old, and you weren’t there long enough for him to make this much damage. Only after those awful Occlumency lessons I started to suspect that I might have been wrong about you all along. But I couldn't just quit the act and talk with you. I thought you wouldn't understand. And I would have been right. I found out about potions only when I was examining you after pulling you out of that house...” He refused to look at the teen in front of him. He was already more honest with him than he ever thought would be possible. 

After few minutes of strained silence Potter spoke. 

“I thought it was all a hallucination. I woke in the middle of the night, still feeling pain of Riddle's last victim, not knowing where I was exactly, what happened... And there were those arms holding me tightly, voice coaxing me to relax and let go...” Potter's voice was sombre and quiet. So different from this sour tune he acquired lately. 

He slowly turned his head to look at the boy who was watching him with curious expression and slightly tilted head. “You helped me that night. Until now I didn’t know who it was that anchored me. After that night Riddle perished from my mind for weeks. _Weeks._ Thank you.” Potter’s face was open and honest. 

“You have nothing to thank me for.” Severus replied feeling slightly embarrassed by his sincerity. 

“No. I have everything to thank you for.” Potter’s passionate response surprised him, he seemed almost angry. “You saved my life numerous times. Surely more times than I know of. I am glad it was you who intervened with the Dursleys. I am more than thankful for you training me. I am happy that you are so different from a man I thought you were. I actually like you.” Potter smiled. 

“You don’t have to...” Severus tried to wave him off but Potter slowly stood up and approached Severus’ desk, eyes glimmering with fire, posture tense and imposing. 

“Without you I would be dead, _dead,_ in my first year! You were urging me to think , always pushing me on every step to do better, to think. You were always there when I needed someone to shake me out of my misery. Even if I didn’t appreciate it at that time. After the Tournament, when I was suffering the aftermath of so many _Cruciatus_ , you were the one who brew and slipped me potions to counter the effects of the curse.” Severus’ eyes widened and Potter smirked. “Yeah, I know about that one. And the point is that you were the only one to act when all the others waited for orders. You took me out of Dursleys . You healed me, watched over me. Then you gave me back my freedom.” Potter leaned over the desk looking deep into Severus’ eyes. “You were there this summer, held me together when I thought I will break apart from pain and anger. You are here now. My _friends_ were more focused on listening to that old manipulative coot to even think about doing anything. I know that in your own, twisted way, you care. You never lied to me; however painful the truth was. So yeah, Mr. Snape, I thank you. More even, I owe you. I am so much in debt to you that I will probably never be able to pay it off.” 

Boy, no, young, so young, man in front of him finished his rant and was panting slightly, still fuming, Severus could only stare into those emerald eyes, taken aback by the Potter’s outburst. 

“Have you finished?” Severus asked him after few moments of uneasy silence. Potter stepped aback as if Severus had hit him and gaped. Severus couldn’t help it and let the corner of his lips twitch in amusement. 

“You bloody...” Boy’s eyes narrowed catching the movement. 

“I am still your Professor, Potter, so watch your tongue.” He interjected. 

“I don’t see my Professor, nor my trainer, only an evil git of the dungeons!” Potter exasperated throwing his hands in the air. “I pour my heart out to you and what do I get? Sarcasm.” 

“You should be more careful to whom you open up to. They may tell people your secrets.” He warned but Potter only snorted. 

“Oh, you will tell someone that we don’t hate each other so much anymore?” 

“I might.” Severus said knowing that was unlikely. Potter knew that too. 

“I would pay to see that. You, granting someone access to the memories you hold in that head of yours, guarded more heavily than Fort Knox, willingly sharing a memory of my rant with anyone... Well, good luck trying to convince someone to believe you.” Potter smirked and folded his arms on his chest. 

Severus just shook his head amused. “You never posed to me as the witty one.” 

“If I didn’t possess any wits, you wouldn’t agree to _my_ request to teach me, wouldn’t you?” Potter retorted. 

“I guess you are right. I wouldn’t. Knowledge is mostly useless without some wits to knit it together. I’d rather not waste my time on completely helpless cases.” Severus half-smirked half-sneered. “Still you shouldn’t give a Slytherin such a weapon as saying that you owe him anything.” 

Potter just shrugged. “I said it before. I trust you.” 

“Gryffindors...” Severus grumbled and Potter just smiled softly seemingly forgetting that he was angry at him just a minute before. “Now, I shall ask again. What did possess you to duel Mr. Malfoy in my classroom?” 

Young boy-hero sighed wearily and scrubbed his face roughly. “I told you, I didn’t start this.” He paused for a moment. “But I admit that I might have teased him about his father... He just lost it.” 

“Potter, will you ever listen to me?” Severus snarled. “Think before you act. There is always a time and place for those kinds of actions. Instinct is good to keep you alive but you still need to be _aware_ of what you’re doing. And provoking someone who’s family is deeply in Dark Lord’s pocket is not being aware of consequences of your actions.” He clucked his tongue annoyed. “Can you recall few of the curses you used? Not the jinxes or hexes, but the actual curses?” Potter looked at him and flash of guilt panged in his eyes. “I thought so. Potter, if Draco wasn’t so... caught up, he could have recognized one or two of them. And those were the kind of Dark that gives Dark Arts their bad reputation, Potter. One slip, that’s all it takes.” 

“I know, Professor.” Boy slumped heavily on the edge of the desk. Regret painted on his face. 

“I do not want you to not defend yourself but consider for a moment what you can use without revealing what you really know, what skills you actually possess. Especially in this school. Especially now.” 

“Yes, sir.” Potter just whispered quietly. 

“Glad to hear you agree. Now, let me re-introduce you to the rules.” Severus folded his hands in a very Dumbledore-like gesture “You will only use wandless and non-verbal magic when it's a part of your assignment. And use of any verbal spells that can be classified as... dubious or with derogative term of Dark Arts is out of the question. Also, you will not, in any case, use spells that I created and taught you. And lastly, you will never let anyone see how powerful you are. Let them think you are mediocre but hard working. Are we clear?” 

“Yes, Professor.” Teen’s voice was subdued but Severus couldn’t be fooled. He will hear about Potter’s abilities by the end of the month. 

“With that out of the way, let’s get through your preparation for your Ancient Runes O.W.L.” He said changing the subject and Potter threw him a grateful smile before launching himself in a tale full of schedules, translations and methods of applying runes into everyday objects. 

**_There's a devil in the church_**   
**_Got a bullet in the chamber_**   
**_And this is_** ** _gonna_** ** _hurt_**

**_4)_ **

Weekend passed in a mix of excruciatingly long stretches of time and dizzying leaps full of activity and homework. He was so distracted that he threw his Slytherin Chaser try-outs and, as a result, decide to quit the Quidditch team altogether. With all that was happening Draco figured that more obligations can only cause him more trouble. His position as Prefect was already precarious and he didn’t want to jeopardize that. He wanted to keep the liberties it granted him. Being allowed to stay out of his common room after curfew was one of them, he liked the most. Long walks on the abandoned corridors lit by moonlight and flickering torches was his only respite. Or maybe the only thing keeping him from imploding on innocent, unsuspecting students. 

This would have ended in a bloodbath. 

After initial bout of fear and anxiety, Draco was gradually becoming angrier. By Monday, he was fuming silently, throwing daggers at everyone around him. He was starting to suspect that being furious would be his default setting from now on. Angry at father? Check. Angry at mother? Check. Aunt? Check. Godfather? Check. Teachers? Friends? Other students? Check, check, check. And he blamed it all on Potter. Even if he knew that it was stupid. Even if he knew that it was his father that was at fault why his life was resembling a smoking pile of garbage. Smoking and shackled in chains for a good measure. Chains that his father put on him by pledging his loyalty to Dark Lord. But Potter was here. Close and perfect target for his hatred and anger. 

So, Draco simmered in his feelings. Negative emotions bubbled inside him heating up his blood. His mood was so bad that no one wanted to seat near him during meals and even Blaise seemed wary when approaching him. 

Seeing Potter walking around relaxed, almost smiling when talking to Longbottom, apparently unaffected by his ex-friends stalking him... It only darkened his mood further. He wanted to leave the castle and never look back. But he couldn’t go home. He didn’t have anywhere to go. So, exactly at six in the afternoon, Draco knocks on the doors to Snape’s office and waits for invite inside. 

“Enter.” His Head of House sat behind big mahogany desk and was writing something furiously on a roll of parchment. He didn’t even lift his head when Draco entered the room. 

Draco looked around. The only furniture in the office was Snape’s desk, his chair and bookshelf's filling each wall. Clearly, the Professor wasn’t the one to host guests in this office as there were no additional chairs. Draco conjured himself a simple chair in front of the desk and sat down and waited patiently wondering what Snape did during his office hours. Half of the student population couldn’t conjure themselves even a shabby stool, another quarter would do a bad job out of this, most likely falling on their arses when trying to sit. 

Minutes passed in silence, not even fire settling in the hearth interrupted them. And Boy Wonder was late. Five minutes morphed into ten. Snape still wrote on his scroll ignoring Draco. He started to tap his fingers on his thigh impatiently. 

Fast rattle on the door startled Draco and he jumped on his chair. Next moment Potter was barging into Snape’s office with angry scowl on his face. He was without his outer school robes and was taking off his tie with one hand while closing the door with the other. 

“Apologies, sir.” He said rushing to desk. Potter conjured his own chair with a flourish and slumped over it stuffing his pocket with his tie. 

“How gracious of you to award us with your presence, Mr Potter.” Snape drawled putting down his quill and measuring up the messy looking teen. 

“I am sorry for being late. Professor McGonagall wanted to talk about my attitude and she refused to let me go.” Draco saw Potter roll his eyes and Snape just scoffed. 

“I don’t care about your excuses, Potter.” Professor spat. “You were late...” He cast a quick _Tempus,_ “fifteen minutes. That will be fifteen points from Gryffindor.” Potter just nodded stiffly watching Snape with burning eyes. Draco watched them angry, but slightly amused. Snape berating Potter was always a source of entertainment to Draco, today was no different. “Up.” Snape commanded and walked to the door leading to his classroom. 

Draco followed along with Potter and for the first time he saw the extent of damage they induced. He was shocked. How had he missed this? Multiple tiles were cracked, few closely resembled gravel. Windows were shattered, the glass was everywhere. Curtains hanged in stripes. The walls were chipped on the corners and covered in small craters. Half of the student desks laid in shambles beneath the wall, even teacher’s desk didn’t escape the slaughter. Blackboards looked more like burned rags stretched on wooden frames. 

He placed his gaze on Professor Snape and swallowed guiltily. They really had unleashed hell here. It was a surprise that none of their classmates was injured. 

“If you two finished gaping get on to work.” Snape drawled and conjured himself a comfortable armchair near the door. “No magic. Sweep all the rubble, glass shards and splinters into separate piles. Then mark them, and each crack, fracture and crater you two imbeciles had made, by one simple criteria. If the damage can be fixed with magic or needs to be mended by hand. Understand?” He asked piercing them with a dark gaze. A book appeared in his hands from nowhere. 

Draco’s eyes widened at the directions but he nodded solemnly. It will be a painstaking and ungrateful job. He already hated it. But he knew he somehow deserved it. Draco turned to get on with the job and saw Potter already sweeping up the glass shards with impassive expression on his face. 

With a fierce scowl Draco walked toward splinters that were desks just few days ago and started sorting. 

He hated that too. 

He hated this whole gods forsaken day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Should’ve Known Better – Sick Puppies  
> 2) Your Heart Is As Black As Night – Melody Gardot  
> 3) Holy Water – Funeral Portrait   
> 4) This Is Gonna Hurt – Sixx:AM 


	9. Keeping Your Mouth Shut

**_You better turn me loose_**   
**_You better set me free_**   
**_'Cause_** ** _I'm hot young running free_**   
**_A little bit better than I use to be_**

**_1)_ **

Tuesday and Wednesday passed without problems. Ron and Hermione kept their distance and for once Harry was grateful to be mostly alone. He asked Neville to try the waters with Dean and Lavender and he has already planned to talk with them personally next week. What really was troubling Harry was Ginny’s behaviour. 

After she ambushed him last week, he was constantly wary of her presence. Even Ron and Hermione weren’t that aggressive in trying to get him to cooperate or to find out what he was up to. Ginevra was watching him like a hawk. Stalked him whenever he left Gryffindor Tower. Bumped into him in corridor in between classes. It was bloody annoying so much that Harry had resorted to casting a _Confundus_ charm whenever he turned the corner, using his Map, just to be sure he wouldn’t hit anybody else. Not that a little confusion would kill anyone, but vast majority of the student body was innocent in his books and if he could he wanted to avoid causing them any problems. 

And bunch of students losing any recollection of what they have been doing in the last few minutes, almost always in the corridors leading to Gryffindor Common Room would rise a bunch of questions. 

Still, he decided to traverse the corridors with his head held high. Of course, his wand was always ready and he always had a few handy distraction tactics prepared. He will not hide from one stubborn girl. 

He might run and mislead, but he will not hide. 

So, Harry tried to enjoy his dinner in Great Hall. He ignored all the looks, the whispers, he only smiled at Neville who talking with Dean. He ate slowly, wondering if this evening will be the same as every other this week. Every evening, Harry was getting unsigned letters and packages over dinner. Chocolates, flowers, little trinkets. He already received three similar packages. What was wrong with people? It was horrible. Evening mail was rare at Hogwarts and being singled out like that was annoying. He wasn’t even keeping the items, just leaving them on the table for the elves, not even bothering to read the attached notes. Today, he had half of mind to banish the small package wrapped in brown paper, just to show whomever was sending him those ‘gifts’ that he doesn’t appreciate them, when he felt heavy presence, lurking on the edges of his mind. He sighed heavily sensing a trace of tar-like curse lingering in that mind probe. 

“Dumbledore, of course.” Harry unfurled a little of his magic to scan the package. Wrappings and strings were clear, but something inside the package made his fingers tingle ominously. Harry hummed. Either the object inside held some magic or there was magic placed on the inner packaging as well. He didn’t like it. 

He stared at the package cutting into his roast. 

Why recently, all the unpleasant things happened when he ate? 

“Fifty points, Harry?” 

Ron. 

“That was last week, Weasley. Congratulation on reaction time.” Harry said not turning his face from his plate. If trying to ambush him while he eats was going to be a pattern... “Gryffindor is not in negative and honestly, it’s not like house points are even remotely important.” 

“But we are last!” Redhead exclaimed pushing himself onto the bench beside Harry who moved away out of reach. 

“Then do something about it. Contribute.” Harry smirked cruelly and turned his head to watch ugly, blotchy blush crawl up Ron’s face. “Be a shining example, worthy of the badge you have.” He turned back and tore into a bread-roll. “Yes. Snape took fifty points because of my duel with Malfoy. And for sure he will take more before the end of this month. Anyway, I made up for this and then some. Satisfied?” 

“You shouldn’t have lost any in the first place!” Ron shouted causing many heads to turn to him with distaste. 

“Oh, Ronald. You want to cause another scene?” He shook his head in contempt. “The one last week wasn’t enough?” 

“’But... the House Cup...” Weasley mumbled looking slightly ashamed. 

“Really. House Cup. There is a madman on the loose” Harry spat, not even trying to hide his disgust for the redhead and tore his bread into shreds, “hell bent on enslaving or killing anyone who dares to see the world differently and all you care about is some stupid trophy? Grow up, Weasley.” He moved to stand and leave when a freckled hand fell on his shoulder. 

“Hey! Don’t you walk away from me!” Ron turned him around forcefully. “We need to talk what is wrong with you lately.” Ron stated firmly, still holding his arm in hard grip. “You duel in Snape’s class, lose points, quit the team, even threaten Hermione.” Ron’s irritated face twisted into concern. “What is wrong, Harry? We are your friends, you can talk to us, don’t cut us out. We can help you...” 

Harry watched him with slight amusement. Ron spoke with plea in his voice, concern painted on his face, but his eyes... Eyes were telling Harry all he needed to know. They were cold and empty, calculating. All hazed by a sheen of fear. 

“You are so transparent.” Harry said with mocking amazement in his voice. “I can’t believe I’ve never saw it before.” Harry chuckled softly and Ron’s hand fell from his arm. “Time will be better spent with you telling me why are you so intent on trying to fit where you are not welcome? Or maybe what are you afraid of? Or maybe, what is wrong with _you_?” Harry scoffed. “Spare me your lies. I’ve had enough of them already. Now leave. Before I lose my appetite.” Harry threw him a two-finger salute. 

Ron gawped at him for a second or two before rushing to the front of the table where Hermione sat and watched them intently. Harry extended the salute to her. She pulled back exasperated and he chuckled unamused. Maybe he will have some amusement from this predicament. Few words here, discreet jinx there. Nothing to cause him any real problems, but will annoy them out of their minds. Angers tends to push people into making mistakes. 

Maybe he could tweak the odds to his favour and discredit them completely. 

Harry smiled to himself and wrapped Dumbledore’s package in a thin layer of air, careful that his skin wouldn’t touch it, before putting it in his pocket for later. Against himself, Harry was curious what they had prepared this time. But this could wait. 

He had detention to attend to. 

**_You can make me bleed, you can make me scream_**   
**_But I won't run away_**   
**_This is how I know that I must go_**   
**_So, I can fight today_**

**_2)_ **

Severus sat behind his freshly repaired desk and watched as the boys scrubbed and cleaned the floors by hand. They did a pretty good work with repairing all that spell damage they caused with their little duel. If he didn’t still feel angry and disappointed that they acted this way he would be proud. Draco was probably oblivious to the fact that he caused most of the damage by casting his spells non-verbally and he decided that he won’t be enlightening his godson about that. Not yet anyway. Partly to punish him for the stunt he pulled with the duel, partly for his stubborn approach to be tight-lipped about Dark Lords requests. Severus was grating his teeth in frustration, but he couldn’t reveal that he knows what Draco was tasked with. That would lead to many uncomfortable questions. He couldn’t help if Draco was refusing to tell him what was his problem. 

Potter shot him a wide-eyed gaze full of concern when a soaring pain shot through his left arm and his fingers twitched. With a corner of his eye he noticed that Potter’s face scrunched in pain but the boy quickly hid it by bowing his head. The burning quickly faded away leaving a hot pulsing through his arm, urging him to hasten. Severus tightened his fists in annoyance. Dark Lord never called him during the week, never before curfew. That didn’t bode well. Something has happened. 

Feeling the impetuous nature of the summoning, Severus grate his teeth. He loathed to resolve to such means, but he couldn’t just leave those two alone. Or cut their punishment short. He quickly penned a note to Minerva asking her to fill in for him, discreetly. She knew what that meant. He covertly charmed the note to fly over to the Gryffindor Head of House. The only one person is this whole castle that could cover for him. 

Few minutes later, Minerva called from his office. 

“Severus?” 

“In the classroom, Minerva.” He swept over and opened the door for her. “What brings you here? I am still overseeing the detention.” 

“Oh, Headmaster wanted to see you. He said it’s urgent.” She looked at him and then took in the sight of two teens cleaning his classroom. “I will take it from here for you.” 

Severus thinned his lips irritated. He knew that both boys were listening on their conversation and that Potter already knew what it was about. Smokes and mirrors. Suppressing a deep sigh, he nodded curtly to the Deputy Headmaster and shot the two boys a dark glare. 

“Thank you, Minerva. You two will finish here while I see what troubles our Headmaster today. Do not cause any more trouble or you will regret it.” Severus sneered more viciously than usual. If he had to be honest with himself, lately, the Headmaster was grating on his nerves more and more. Maybe, because of the talk he had with Potter last week. Maybe, because he was fed up with Dumbledore’s machinations and lies. Maybe, he was simply tired of his role, of all this acting. It was almost seventeen years after all... 

But now wasn’t the time to ponder on that. His other _job_ called. 

“Behave. Or you will come back over the weekend.” Severus barked walking out swiftly, his black robes billowing behind. He felt Potter’s emerald gaze drilling into his back. He was just hoping that those two boys won’t kill each other. Those two could manage it, even if Minerva was watching over them. 

**_The secret side of me, I never let you see_**   
**_I keep it caged but I can't control it_**   
**_So, stay away from me, the beast is ugly_**   
**_I feel the rage and I just can't hold it_**

**_3)_ **

Their detention stretched far after curfew, but Severus didn’t come back. Draco wondered what issue Headmaster had for his godfather that took longer than everyone thought. Nonetheless, he worked with Potter in silence and McGonagall seemed to be pleased with their work and ordered them to go straight to their dormitories when they were done. Draco was almost in the dungeons when he realized that he left his books in Severus’ class. Muttering under his breath about threadbare old cats and annoying housemates he turned on his heels and walked back. 

Draco crossed the corridor leading to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom and paused by the neighbouring unused one. The doors were slightly ajar, nothing but the moonlight seeping out of the room. He heard quiet sobs coming from the inside. Intrigued, he sneaked closer and peeked through the gap carefully pushing the door open. 

He wouldn't say that he was surprised that the person he saw sitting on the windowsill was Potter. What surprised him was that the Golden Boy was crying. Chocking down on the tears, with only moonlight and dust to keep him company. 

What made him cry like that... Draco wondered as he entered the room tentatively. 

He winced as the hinges creaked and the doors closed behind him but quickly recomposed himself as Potter's head snapped up to look at the intruder. 

“Well, well, well... If it’s not our little hero...” Draco mocked walking further in, shutting the door behind him. 

“Malfoy!” Potter yelped breathlessly, quickly wiping his tears away. “What are you doing here?” 

“Just checking who was murdering cats in here.” Draco sneered leaning on the dusty desk. “What are _you_ still doing here?” 

“And what? Wanted to join? To take part in some dark ritual to please your snake lord?” Potter spat with contempt. 

“Watch it, Potter.” Draco warned him. “You know nothing about me.” 

“Nothing? Aren't you just the perfect little image of your Death Eater father?” Potter sneered angrily. “You certainly do look like him. I bet you just can't wait to bend the knee before that lizard faced maniac.” 

“I told you to watch it, Potter, or I will...” Draco felt anger rising his ugly head in his chest. 

“Will what?” He interrupted him scathingly. “Go and try to kill me?” He scoffed. “Stand in line and wait your tu...” 

Draco was shaking with anger and before Potter could finish the sentence, he launched a curse at his head. 

Harry yelped, not really surprised, as he dodged the curse. He quickly drew his wand and responded with his own. 

Soon they were duelling more fiercely than ever before. They were rolling on the floor, dodging, trying to best each other. One stray exploding hex left them both showered in splinters from broken furniture. 

But their spell exchange didn’t last long. 

Somehow, they both ended rolling on the floor, throwing punches, kicking and struggling to get a hold of another, to hurt one another. Their wands laid uselessly, abandoned on the dusted floor just a few meters away. 

Harry was surprised to find that Malfoy was stronger than him as he pinned him to the floor and he couldn’t wiggle his way out. Panting heavily, he tried to pull his hands free from Slytherin's grip. He could feel his eye swell slightly from the punch the blonde landed earlier and his lip stung, split from another. Malfoy laid down on him heavily trying to stop Harry's legs from kicking. 

“Stop... kicking... so much!” Malfoy uttered with his teeth clenched. His eyes were stormy and dark with barely withheld fury. Droplets of blood ran down from his broken brow. Harry felt as Malfoy lunged his hips forward and caught Harry's legs with his, pinning him harder to the floor. 

Terror that engulfed his insides when heavy gasp melted with a moan escaped Harry's lips. 

He froze still as Malfoy looked into his face. Like a hound smelling his prey. Harry knew how he probably presented himself. Wide eyed, mouth open and panting, desperately trying to look unaffected. Praying that Malfoy misheard his moan... 

Harry stared apprehensively into Malfoy's eyes. He saw that the fury in his stormy irises that was slowly overthrown with mixture of shock, disbelief and something else he couldn't name. His mouth felt dry as he watched something shift in those eyes. Something darker than fury and more captivating than hatred swam to the surface. 

Harry licked his dry lips and almost chocked as the blonde on him shifted his hips pressing their groins more firmly together. Then Malfoy pressed his hips down again, like he was trying him, and Harry couldn't stop breathy whimper escaping from his throat and he arched his head back. Sudden wave of heat that pooled in his abdomen in the reaction to the other firm hard body pressed against his was nothing he was prepared for. 

Draco was surprised by Gryffindor's reactions. Fury dissipated leaving him confused and slightly dizzy. It was slowly replaced with something else, equally animalistic. He was surprised when he recognised the emotion. Lust. So strong, as if his body was on fire. Skin tingling in places where the smaller body pressed on his warming him beyond comprehension. 

His mind was blank when he lunged forward and captured Potter's Adam's apple with his mouth. Surprised, guttural moan was his reward as he nipped on the exposed throat. 

Black-haired boy shivered beneath him violently, holding back his moans, encouraging him to explore further. And so, he did. With one free hand he tugged at Potter’s tie to expose more of the golden-hued skin. 

Harry was lost in the feeling of Malfoy's teeth and lips on his throat and neck. His muscles ached, urged him to move, to be closer to the other teen as he panted and moaned. The blonde’s treatment of his neck was only growing more aggressive with every moan and gasp for air Harry let out. All his reason went out the window as he begged, whoever was listening, that this sweet torture would never end. 

Malfoy's lips on his neck felt like heaven and he let out a disappointed yelp when he moved them away. Instinctively he rolled his hips up feeling hardness alongside his own. He moaned again. 

He lowered his eyes to look at the blonde and his cheeks flushed as he caught that dark gaze. Green eyes clashed with grey and before he knew they dived into each other smashing their lips together, tongues following to tangle in complicated dance. 

Harry’s thoughts were in chaos. That was bloody-fucking-Malfoy for fucks sake! They hated each other. They just duelled, second time in ten days, wretched another classroom and fought. He bloody split his lip. And now they were making out like there was no tomorrow. Insane. But he couldn’t deny that Malfoy made Harry’s blood boil in a way that no one has ever made before. 

Slytherin let go of his hands and Harry clutched them at his shoulders pulling him closer. He almost didn't notice that Malfoy ripped his shirt open to put his hands on his ribs, wandering on sensitive skin. Harry moved his hand to Malfoy's neck pulling him closer, moaning into his mouth as the blonde sunk his teeth into his lip hard enough to draw blood. Nails dug into his sides and he arched off the floor, pressing himself harder to the Slytherin's body, silently asking for more. 

Draco hissed when the brunet thrust his pelvis into his groin fiercely. Their erections graze together and Draco growled. He backed off a little, just enough to catch the gaze of Potter’s emerald irises. Pupils blown wide, eyesight glazed with desire, lips red and swollen. Bleeding from injuries caused by Draco’s fists and teeth. _‘Delectable.’_ Came to his mind. 

He let out a cruel chuckle before putting more pressure on Potter’s body, teasing, trying Wonder Boy’s limits. Lengthy moan that escaped the Gryffindor's throat was all the answer he needed. Draco started to slowly, repeatedly thrust, rubbing against Potter's body while he placed his right hand on his nape and pulled his head to the side, tugging at his hair. He quickly put his mouth on the underline of Gryffindor's jaw and started biting and sucking on the heated skin, leaving hickeys on his way down along the neck. 

Potter held tightly onto his head and shoulder as Draco scraped the skin raw with his teeth. He shivered each time Draco collided their groins together. Feeling his orgasm build up he bit down on Potter's shoulder. For a moment he enjoyed Golden Boy's scream of pain mixed with pleasure but then clenched his hand around his throat. 

He started to move faster. 

Harry couldn’t breathe. His lungs were on fire, his shoulder, bitten, pulsed in pain. His mind was turning into scrambled collection of lights and colourful flecks. 

But he couldn't stop his hips from moving. The pain and absence of air only pushing him closer to the edge. He gripped Malfoy tighter feeling the pleasure build up. This was too much. Malfoy's movements became less collected, more erratic, more aggressive... The pressure on his shoulder was lifted only for a moment, just to be moved to the side of his neck and Malfoy bit him again. 

Harry shuddered and climaxed, black spots floating before his eyes. 

For a few seconds he wondered if he was going to die here. Snape or someone else would find him in a few days, dead to the world. His consciousness was slipping and he realized he couldn't care less. He let out a strained whizz of air barely noticing Malfoy trembling and moaning gutturally into his neck. 

Next thing he knew was that he was coughing harshly, gulping down the air suddenly filling his lungs and the other body's weight lifted from him. He rolled over to the side and last he saw was Malfoy’s back, retreating from the classroom in a hurry before he blacked out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Live Wire - Mötley Crüe  
> 2) This Is Why We Bleed - Leader  
> 3) Moster - Skillet


	10. The Silence

**_Born into a world_**   
**_Where we're dying to be free_**   
**_But we're living underneath their supremacy_**

**_1)_ **

Harry woke up slowly. The uneven stone floor he was lying on, more resembled one of the Dursley’s punishments than any sort of sleeping place and painfully tried to merge with his bones. He felt dusty and achy and had an eerie feeling that something was off today. Not to mention what the hell happened yesterday. Malfoy trying to kill him was nothing new or surprising, but everything else? Weird. Weird and strange. Sun falling gently on his face from high-arched window was not helping with his assessment. He felt cold and dusty and had too many bruises and scrapes to not have a sour mood. Even without his wonderment about Malfoy’s actions, the day already had a foreboding feeling to it. With a low groan he stretched his stiff body and glanced on his wristwatch.

“Half past seven. Awesome.” Harry rolled his eyes already planning how to adjust his schedule for the day. He missed his morning training, messing up his whole daily routine and now he had only half an hour to get down for breakfast. To eat in peace before everyone else, that mean. He had just barely enough time to run up to the Gryffindor Tower, shower and change clothes. With a groan, he scurried off the floor pausing briefly to grab his wand and bag.

Thank gods it was Saturday. He might have a little more than half an hour more to avoid his classmates. Even Ravenclaws were a trying company these days.

He was glad that corridors were still abandoned at this hour on Saturday, but his relief was short-lived as he entered the Common Room. This was Gryffindor’s territory, full of Dumbledore’s little spies ready to tell him he spent night outside the dorms. He startled a few first years as he ran to his dorm and straight to the bathroom, rushing past his dormmates barely stirring in their beds, still sleeping soundly. He locked himself in one of the cabins and banished his clothes into the laundry bin. Showering thoroughly, he let his thoughts wander freely and wobbled when unusual silence hit him like a hammer.

“What...?” Harry closed his eyes searching inwardly for the angry hissing voice that lived in the back of his head since he got off Dumbledore’s potions... Voice that was insistent and never quieted, regardless how hard he Occluded. He searched and looked. Scoured all nooks and crannies of his mind. But all he found was silence.

Silence.

He was alone in his head. Before the Vernon Incident, how he called his yet another one brush with death, the Voice was dulled, covered by the slight buzzing that mumbled his thoughts and caused his problems with concentration. It only became active when Voldemort was actively seeking him out or felt a rush of emotions that strengthened their connection. When Snape cleared his blood from Dumbledore’s potions it became gradually louder. It was one of the reasons why Harry wrote to Snape asking for help. Occlumency was supposed to help him block this presence from his mind as well as shield his thoughts from future intrusions. They couldn’t be more wrong. Of course, even Snape was not able to read his mind now, but in terms of Voldemort’s intrusions it only got rid of the painful visions and spiking headaches. The hissed monologue was still there, poisoning his thoughts.

Until today.

Total silence.

And it was terrifying.

Shocked, Harry slid slowly on the shower wall letting the hot water scourge his abused skin.

**_I wake up every morning with my head up in a daze_**   
**_I'm not sure if I should say this, fuck, I'll say it anyway_**   
**_Everybody tries to tell me that I'm going through a phase_**   
**_I don't know if it's a phase, I just_** ** _wanna_** ** _feel okay, yeah_**

**_2)_ **

Draco dreaded what would be waiting for him in the Great Hall. He got close to none of sleep last night waiting for Headmaster, maybe even Aurors, to come for him and expel or arrest him for pushing himself on their Golden Boy.

As he crossed the archway and when no one was shouting after or approaching him, he relaxed minutely but still his eyes searched the Hall apprehensively. He saw Potter staring absently into space with Weasley tentatively inching closer to him, probably using Longbottom’s absence and Potter’s distraction. Draco was surprised to feel the low growl rising in his throat at the sight, but he smothered it quickly and followed Blaise to the Slytherin table.

Confusing feelings and bodily reactions can be analysed later. Preferably when he wasn’t expected to act as the perfect Ice Prince of Slytherin. Preferably when he was alone. Preferably without Gryffindors, especially Weasleys, anywhere near in sight. And contemplating the reason behind Potter’s empty stare wasn’t doing him any favours. was he plotting how to take him down? Or just having a bad day? Was he angry? Confused? Scared?

The whirlpool of thoughts made Draco dizzy and couldn’t do anything to stop it.

He could not stop thinking about it.

Harry’s walk downstairs for breakfast was strangely squeezed into hazy blur of shadowed corridors and few scattered faces he passed on his way. And he was late. Dazed and confused about his findings, a mere hour ago, he barely had enough common sense to wear a turtleneck to cover the wounds and bruises on his throat and shoulders. It didn’t even occur to him that he could heal them. Or glamour. His mind was split in the middle. One part worrying about the absence of the Voice and what it might mean. Second trying to untangle the mystery yesterday’s evening was. Thoughts of two stormy irises and soft pink lips that were ravaging his own just last night were stirring his insides. Harry was at a loss.

Warped thoughts and sentences, questions gnawing at his clenching insides, slithered in tangled loops and swirls on the surface of his mind, pounding against his Occlumency shields. Did Riddle retreat? What Malfoy was thinking? Had Voldemort hidden behind his Occlumency shields? Is it another of Malfoy’s ploys to shame Harry? But he came too, right...?

Harry suspected that Voldemort was constantly blocking him after that fiasco few months ago in the Ministry, but there was still an echo that lingered anyway. Now there was dead silence. He couldn’t be dead right? What has changed?

This newly acquired silence was buzzing in his ears, distracting him and pushing the usual school noise to the background. He got so used to that sibilant monologue that he wasn’t even noticing it. Just like previously, when he ignored the effects of the potions that he was being dosed with… But now, the absence of any noise, the silence, was disturbing.

It was during lunch when Harry finally noticed Hermione following him and blabbering about something excitedly. And that Harry was humming and nodding in his state of absentmindedness. He narrowed his eyes at this sudden realisation and dropped his fork on the plate with a clatter that startled everyone around him. Harry turned to Hermione slowly and placed his elbows on the table supporting his chin on his palms.

“Oh, Hermione. I am so sorry.” Harry said calmly. His voice dripping with sweetness. “I was so lost in thoughts I didn't hear a word of what you were saying. Can you repeat?”

She almost choked looking at Harry's deathly calm face. Squirmed under attentive gaze of narrowed green eyes and grumbled something under his breath.

“Louder please. I can't hear you over this commotion.” Harry nudged him, his lips forming a wicked smirk.

“I said,” Hermione cleared her throat, gathering courage. "That it would be nice if you joined us in library for study session. We miss you."

Harry grinned widely and triumph sparked in girl's eyes. Grin disappeared from Harry's face momentarily.

“I told Ron to not lie to me just few days ago. Second day of school, I told you to leave me alone.” Harry said lowering his voice to a threatening level and Hermione's eyes grew wide, shocked, maybe even scared. He didn't care. “You must be seriously challenged intellectually to show such inability to understand simple sentences. I meant it when I said that I am done with you. I don't need you and it would be _nice,”_ Harry hissed, “if you could finally get lost. I am trying to eat.” Harry turned his head to his plate and lift his fork. After a moment, the subtle rustle of robes signalled her departure. Harry put bored expression on his face and stared ahead, quickly losing himself again in his thoughts. He couldn’t stop nudging that empty place in his mind where the Voldemort’s voice was. Only to have his focus broken by sunrays reflecting of platinum blonde hair.

Malfoy was sitting at his table surrounded by his housemates with the trademarked smirk lazily wandering on his lips. Harry felt hypnotized by their elegant dance as he tried to eat. Pink tongue peeking out occasionally from between those perfectly white teeth was stirring something inside Harry. Memories of those lips and teeth on his skin, the hard body pressed flush to his, long fingers catching, scraping… He felt heat in his stomach spreading to his neck and groin. He couldn't take his eyes off those lips.

Bite wounds on his neck ached, he could still feel the tight grip of those long fingers on his wrists, throat...

“Fuck.” Harry cursed standing abruptly and left the Great Hall in a hurry. He could feel numerous pairs of eyes boring into his back and he refused himself to wonder if certain blonde Slytherin’s eyes were amongst them.

**_And you know I got feelings_**   
**_Won't you hit me right, you know you might as well_**   
**_Won't do you no good_**   
**_Said it won't do you no good_**

**_3)_ **

Draco stalked between bookstands in the library and observed Potter who was perusing a pile of books laid out on the table. He was mildly surprised that he found Potter to be so studious this year, but he suspected that his knowledge about Ancient Runes he was presenting during classes didn’t appear overnight. And considering all that came to light in recent days, his clashes with Weasley in the Hall... Library appeared to be Potter’s sanctuary these days. Smart. Hiding in the plain sight. Because no student in their right mind wanted to mess with Madam Pince. It was an academical suicide.

Watching Gryffindor study had some allure to it. His eyes skimmed the text while his hand scribbled on the parchment like crazy. Draco cocked his head. Without looking, line after line appeared on the cream sheet, as if enchanted from under Potter’s hand. The way Golden Boy did that showed practice and grace that even the regent Know-It-All Granger lacked.

He watched with interest, trying to read at least one title from the pile, but he lost interest before seeing even one letter. ‘He looks so different this year...’ Draco shook his head. Forcing his mind to focus, but even when he was squinting hard the titles still came out blurry or intelligible. _‘Subtle ones at that.’_

Draco hummed lowly and wondered if he should approach black-haired Gryffindor and talk about that last evening. Explain that this was just because of the adrenaline, nothing more. That he would never... But watching the Potter study only made him think that Blaise was right. Potter cleaned up nicely. His hair was still messy and untamed, but they were shiny and strong, and Draco remembered they felt like silk under his hand. Clothes that actually fit him accentuated his Quidditch-toned body, narrow hips and slim limbs. He wasn’t tall nor muscled, but his whole posture emanated pure power and confidence. Eyes occasionally scanned his surroundings, green irises glittering in the autumn sun.

He looked... appealing.

Potter wrote and wrote, taking pause only for a few moments to conjure himself a glass of water or to tug at his ponytail.

On the other hand, why would Potter tell anyone about their little duel and how it ended? And why would Draco care? He knew that he did nothing less than assault the Gryffindor, but the Saviour never said no.

_‘Never clearly consented either.’_ Small voice piped up in his head. 

Draco grit his teeth. He lost control in front of Potter twice already. All it took was an off-handed mention of his family. He turned around, determined to put whole incident behind him, to bury his grievances deep inside his mind and focus on survival, and walked out of the library.

“… Ron. This is so strange.” He heard faint voice from one of the secluded alcoves. “He was distracted this morning and I had no problems with spiking his tea, but by lunch, when he finally noticed me, he still jumped down my throat.”

Draco recognized Granger’s voice and quietly leaned in to hear more, fully using the fact that this time they forgot their privacy charms.

“Maybe you didn’t give him enough.” Male voice piped in. “You know he is thick headed.”

_‘Weasel.’_ Draco sneered silently holding in his snort. The only one thick headed guy in this school was Weasley himself. Whomever they were trying to drug, he hoped that they either bought the concoction from Potions Master or it was nothing seriously advanced and Granger could brew it herself. Any attempt made by Weasley would end up in poisoning or even killing the poor victim. 

“I gave him three times the amount Dumbledore recommended. Almost half a vial.” Granger admitted with apprehension in her voice. “He should be more than complacent, but by the lunch he still wouldn’t listen to me. Something is off about him.”

“Something?” Weasley exasperated. “He survived the Killing Curse, has some weird connection to the You-Know-Who and can talk with snakes. There is more than _something_ wrong with him. He needs those potions.” Draco’s eyes widened. Were they trying to drug _Potter_? And with the potion _Dumbledore_ gave them? His head was spinning. And from the looks of it, Potter was immune to the effects of whatever potion they gave him. Or was more cunning than anyone gave him credit for... This was one hell of a news, more than he could ever bargain for. If he told this his father…

“I am scared, Ron.” Granger whined weakly. “He is unstable...”

“We will get him, honey. No worries. Everything will be just fine. He will be back in his place by Halloween.” Weasley comforted her and then Draco heard wet sounds of heavy snogging session.

Draco backed out disgustingly and returned to library to continue watching the black-haired teen. If Granger and Weasley wanted to drug and _get_ Potter, for whatever purpose, he would do anything he could to make their task harder.

He definitely was allowed to have a little fun before he would end up as a hunting practice for his family, their master and His followers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Supremacy – Fever 333  
> 2) Popular Monster – Falling In Reverse  
> 3) No Good – Kaleo


End file.
